


Moon Drunk Monster

by dontmakemeatarget



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Wynonna Earp (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-01
Updated: 2020-11-14
Packaged: 2021-03-05 05:27:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 41,815
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25019269
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dontmakemeatarget/pseuds/dontmakemeatarget
Summary: Remus finds the course of his life altered when asked to rescue a woman attacked by werewolves.
Relationships: Wynonna Earp/Remus Lupin
Kudos: 2





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is sort of a compilation of sorts of a ship created between myself and a tumblr RP partner. Enjoy :)

Hushed whispers reverberated about the room, pockets of people with their heads bent low, conversing with one another under their breaths, each casting looks at the other groups. The air was thick with tension and many individuals wore tired faces, lined with worry and apprehension. The Dark Lord was mobilizing much faster than any of them had predicted but that was hardly the worst of it. In his wake, darkness was spreading far and wide and people were beginning to grow restless. Fear and despair was leaking through even the tiniest cracks in peoples’ resolve. With each success Voldemort had, those on the outskirts of the war became emboldened, those fringe groups who had thus far kept to the shadows, showing support in their quiet enclaves were coming out of hiding, turning to darkness to achieve their own goals. People within the Order and out were starting to get worried about how bad things were looking for their side. Darkness was tempting even those who were thought hardest to tempt. 

The door suddenly creaked open and the whispers began to subside. The groups of people huddled together each instead turned their attention to the man who had just entered. Even had he not been their leader, the man they’d been waiting to bring them new, he would have easily commanded the attention of any room he entered. He stood tall and straight backed and this evening wore a grave expression that was more than a touch forbidding. He had long gray hair and an equally long and gray beard kept tidy with a tie around the bottom. His robes were as vibrant as ever, deep, shimmering purple, though this did not detract the slightest from his serious appearance, and though he said nothing, the tired, solemn expression he wore stole the attention of all in the room. 

With a heavy sigh, he turned his head around the room, he took in everyone’s anxious features, his piercing blue eyes shining beneath his half-moon spectacles. “The news, I fear is grave,” he began, confirming everyone’s fears at once. Though his voice was slow and steady, a sadness could be heard within, a disappointment that was felt around the room. An unusually and uncommonly hopeful man with light in his eyes and fire in his heart was disappointed and the effect was profound. It seemed from him into all those watching and listening to him, some on the edge of their seats wondering what could make such a stoic man feel such a deep disappointment. But his faith in others was beginning to crumble; the tides were turning in the wrong direction. 

Just as steadily, he continued. “Voldemort’s reach is spreading. I have news that the giants have turned completely. I have recalled all efforts to try to convert them. It is clear that any further talks would be futile and I would only be putting our people in grave danger and we have already lost too many.”

A few people around the room shifted uncomfortably at these words, shooting each other worried glances. Many of those in attendance at the meeting had already lost friends and loved ones. They didn’t need Dumbledore to tell them that their losses were high; they’d all felt them. Meetings beginning with a recount of those lost were now commonplace, outweighing those that began with good news. Some remained hopeful that this time he had not begun with a list of their people lost but remained cautious all the same. By now they were so used to bad news, they were skeptical they’d hear anything but. 

“Is there nothing more we can do, Dumbledor?” A stern looking woman, almost as tall and slender as Dumbledore himself and with the same innate ability to command the attention of the room spoke up from the corner of the room closest to him. 

“I am afraid not, Minerva. That battle, it seems, has been lost. Though I assure you, should my intel be mistaken or should the tides change once more, I will be sure to redouble our efforts. For the time being, however, it appears as though there is nothing more we can do.” He paused for a moment and took another look around the room and gave a small, hopeful sort of smile though not one in the crowd returned it even half-heartedly. 

“It is not all bad news though,” he carried on, his lips turning into that unreturned smile as he waved his hands casually. “The goblins have remained steadfast in their refusal to join up with Voldemort. Despite his best efforts and tantalizing temptations, they have refused to offer him any support.”

At this, a few hushed murmurs rippled across the room like distrubed water, some with a clear sound of skepticism, others of surprised optimism. Among the noises, one lone scoff was heard plain as day.

“You have something to say, Sirius,” Dumbledore said, gesturing to him, his voice as calm and steady as ever. 

“The goblins don’t care about  _ sides _ , Dumbledore. From what I hear, and what I know of goblins,” he said, looking around the crowd, now standing to further garner the attention, clearly at ease with the attention on him, despite his youth and inexperience compared to those around him. “They have no interest in the affairs of wizards; they would just as happily stand by and watch as Voldemort and his followers slaughter us as they would the other way around. They’re not like  _ us _ ,” he continued, with evident disgust in his voice, leaving none in doubt how little he thought of creatures like goblins. 

Sirius Black, though a brilliant wizard for being so young and a valuable asset to the side of the light during the war, could be more than a bit brutish. He was a strongly opinionated young wizard and never once hesitated to make his voice heard. More than that, Sirius was prejudiced and it showed. A clear product of his high-class upbringing and pure blood status amongst wizards, he had strong beliefs about non-wizard magical beings. His sentiments, not altogether rare in present company, were not so often voiced by any of the rest. 

Speaking in the way he did with the acidity and disdain he did was far more common from their enemies than their friends. It was one of the reasons why Sirius found himself unpopular with some in the Order, especially those who had seen far more of the world than a man as young as he. Though Sirius hardly troubled himself with the thoughts and opinions of others. 

“Now, now, Sirius” Dumbledore said, quieting the rumble of assenting murmurs beginning to break out. “We must take what victories we can. The goblins could be an extremely valuable asset to Voldemort and their continued neutrality is better than nothing. A world of knowledge and resources are still beyond his reach; this is something to celebrate.” Taking his eyes of Sirius, he looked again around the room at large. “We must not despair and lose hope and must appreciate our victories no matter how small.

“When we begin to lose faith, be that in ourselves, others, or our cause as a whole, that is when we will have nothing left. We must not lose sight of what is at stake and what we must do to achieve our success. Even, and  _ especially _ , when it seems most difficult. Those are the times our convictions will be truly tested and if we cannot hold strong then…” Dumbledore trailed off, looking pensive allowing the weight of his words to fall on the member of the Order. After a moment of silence as he surveyed Sirius in particular over his half-moon spectacles and continued.

“Now, you all have your individual assignments and I trust you are all tending to them most diligently and I thank you,” he said with a nod that clearly signaled the end of the meeting. As some in the group filed out of the room, others returned to their whispered conversations from before the meeting had begun. 

One young man in particular had looked tiredly around the room before making his way toward the door, a tattered cane in his hand to support him only to be stopped by Dumbledore before he could exit. 

“Oh, Remus, a word if you would be so kind. Outside, I think,” he added significantly. 

“Of course, sir,” the man named Remus replied, nodding his head and turning to the woman nearest him as she tapped him on the shoulder as others filed out of the room around them. 

“Do take care of yourself, won’t you Remus?” said Minerva, the thin, stern looking woman from before. As she spoke, she reached out a hand to straighten the lapels of his tattered second-hand robe, surveying his tired and broken exterior, pursing her lips before gently touching his cheek with a resigned look of pity on her aging features.

“I always do, Minerva” he replied with a smile for which he received a playful scor of skepticism in return. 

“You had better, young man. Just because you are no longer my student does not mean you don’t still have to do what I say.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” he replied cheekily, the effect seeming to return his features to that of the young man he was rather than that of the man several years older that he’d looked when he’d entered headquarters. 

“We’ll wait for you Remus,” a spectacled man with defiantly messy hair said as he stepped toward him, accompanied by a stunning woman with long amber hair. 

“That won’t be necessary, James,” said Dumbledore, having stepped back into the room to see what was keeping Remus. “Lily,” he added with a nod to the red-haired woman. “Though I assure you your friend will be joining you again shortly, I have a small matter of business to discuss with him, if you don’t mind.” Again he nodded, turning his piercing blue eyes on Remus who understood his meaning quite plainly. 

“Later then,” Remus said to his friends before following Dumbledore out of the drawing room. “Is everything all right sir?” He asked once clearly out of earshot of the others and standing alone in a small room with the older wizard. 

“I trust you have heard of a group by the name of The Seven?” He asked without preamble and without looking at Remus, instead looking at the ornate pictures decorating the walls around them.

Remus, too, eyed the portraits, curiously following their movements with his eyes, hiding the grave look that was now gracing his lined features. “I’ve heard of them, yes.”

As he stood there, he could remember as clear as though it were yesterday the day his father had told him about The Seven. It was a day he would never forget and if he never had to hear of them again, he’d be better off for it. His father had told him once he’d felt he was old enough to begin to understand exactly why he, Remus, wasn’t allowed to go out and play with the other children and why exactly it was that people wouldn’t want their children around him. 

Remus was a werewolf and in the Wizarding world, there were few worse things to be. For centuries there had been a terrible stigma surrounding werewolves that was not likely to change any time soon. Not only was lycanthropy contagious but it turned one into a blood thirsty beast that viciously attacked humans every full moon. Other animals could be relatively safe unless they instigated a werewolf but humans were  _ never  _ safe. 

Just before his fifth birthday, Remus had been savagely attacked by a werewolf in his bedroom one night, changing his life forever. From that day forward, he was cursed, not only to a painful transformation into a heartless creature, but to endure the prejudice the wizarding world had against his kind. Many years later he had learned that his attack had been revenge against his father who had, at one time, shared the prejudices of wizards against werewolves and had said some very unkind things about werewolves as well as having crafted some anti-werewolf legislation. Fenrir Greyback, the werewolf who had attacked him had overheard and vowed to make him pay for what he had said, to teach him a lesson. 

As Remus got older, his father had felt he’d had a right to know the whole sad tale of how he had been cursed with such a terrible fate and had told him the truth, muttered through guilty tears and sobs. Though Fenrir was not the only werewolf his father had warned him about. Fenrir was not so unique as he thought; there were a great deal of  _ packs _ that harbored anti-wizard resentments, others who contributed to the blood stained reputation of Remus’s kind. One such group was The Seven. Hunting in a pack, they set their sights on wizards, purposefully hunting them down and if not killing them, cursing them to the same cursed existence Remus had to endure. It was a lose-lose situation to any who crossed them.

There was a family, however, that had made it their own personal goal to hunt down The Seven in turn. In fact, they didn’t discriminate; they hoped to rid the world of werewolves and did their best to ensure it, hunting werewolves wherever they could. Though the feud between the The Seven and the family, the Earps, was centuries old and very  _ personal _ . Both names were all too familiar to Remus as he’d never been able to forget what his father had taught him all those years ago.

“There was an attack last night,” Dumbledore carried on, bringing Remus from this thoughts and back to the present. “The intel is still murky but what is known is that a woman was attacked and she’s still out in the woods somewhere lost. It is believed she went out along hunting The Seven, and her fate is, as yet, unknown.”

“You need me to find her?” Remus asked, already putting a plan together in his head of things he would need for a rescue party.

“I do,” said Dumbledore with a solemn nod. “I want to be sure she is found by the right people. I fear to think what would happen should The Seven come back and finish the job.”

Privately, Remus thought it doubtful The Seven would have left someone alive if it had not been on purpose, but kept such thoughts to himself. Turning someone into a werewolf was worse than death, and it was likely their purpose, especially if someone had been hunting  _ them.  _ What sweeter payback to their enemies than to turn them into the very thing they despised?

“Do we know who the woman is?” It didn’t matter, really; Remus was ready to help anyone attacked by a werewolf but if he knew the woman, she may be easier to find and recognize. It could be possible for him to happen upon someone he didn’t wish to meet in the woods while looking for her.

“I am afraid we do not,” he answered. “But I trust you to find her.”

Remus nodded. Having just transformed the night previous, his senses were still bighly tuned, remnants of that beast lingering in his sense of smell, his sight, and more. “I’m sure I will. I’m not stranger to these kinds of attacks; I know what to look for. Whatever information you have though will help me at least narrow down where to look.”

“Of course,” Dumbledore replied and launched into the finer details Remus would need to complete his latest mission. Once finished, Remus stopped quickly at his humble, shabby home, gathering a warmer (though still thoroughly second-hand) coat from his closet before apparating to the entrance of the wood the woman was reported to be. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Remus finds the woman he's looking for, near death, and rescues her from the woods, as a nagging sense of familiarity tugs away at him.

After the odd squeezing sensation dissipated, Remus opened his eyes, finding himself surrounded by a large, dense forest. There was a lingering smell from the previous night’s rain, and droplets of water splashed down on him from above from the tall trees surrounding him. The rain was unfortunate, the water masking the smell of the wolves, but luckily they often made left quite a path of destruction in their wake. Remus himself in his youth had destroyed many parts of the Shrieking Shack, the place he lay hidden during the fool moon while he was at school. To this very day, people avoided the old home in fear of the angry spirits that had lived there, despite their screams having stopped years ago. 

Still, the forest was vast and dark as the trees were so close together, the forest so dense, that hardly any light leaked through to illuminate his path. It was nearly an hour before Remus started to see the familiar signs of werewolves having roamed free the night before. Smaller trees had been bowled over, a wide path being carved into the earth, heading north and back out of the woods. With a glance north, he turned and followed the large footprints south, noting the conspicuous lack of wildlife in the area. Many of the small woodland creatures had surely fled, simply hiding and waiting to be sure the beasts had left for good. 

He wasn’t sure how much longer he had followed the path but knew he was getting close to his target when the unmistakable stench of blood could be smelled. A blessing and a curse of his condition was his heightened sense of smell, particularly in the days leading to and subsequent to his transformations. Pausing for a moment to listen for signs of movement, be it his quarry or the attackers before continuing on slowly, ears acutely tuned to the noises around him. 

After a few steps, he heard a small rustle of leaves followed by a shaky breath. Stopping, he listened again closely trying to pinpoint the source of the noise. Another rustle of leaves was followed by a small, strained cough and Remus turned around, eyes wide, searching when he finally found what he was looking for: the outline of a body some fifteen feet away. Rushing over, he pulled his wand from the inside pocket of his coat. 

At once, it was clear that she had been the one making the noises he’d heard and though he felt it unlikely for The Seven to be returning to finish her off, he remained alert, listening just in case. For some, turning a person was all they wanted, for others, nothing could sate their thirst for blood, not even returning to human form. 

Moving closer to the woman, he shuddered as he looked at her. Her body was covered in a mixture of dirt, blood and leaves, her leather jacket torn in several places, deep, still bleeding gashes visible through the rips. His stomach turned at the sight, knowing what kind of pain she must be in and the pain she was still to endure. Not only today, but the rest of her life. 

Not wishing to rouse her, Remus took his wand and pointed it at her wounds, siphoning off the dried, crusted blood so he could get a better look at the damage and see what he needed to do. Several smaller wounds were revealed, quick, almost teasing sort of bites as though they had toyed with their prey for a time. What wounds he could easily get to, Remus poured dittany on from a small bottle he had brought with him. Dittany was one of few magical remedies that could help werewolf bites, though nothing could cure or hide them completely. The most he could do was stem the bleeding. Werewolf bites and scratches were magical wounds and therefore not even magic could get rid of them permanently. She’d have those scars for the rest of her life. 

Several moments later, he’d done all he could do for her without moving her and bent down closer to her, giving her a gentle push. “Can you hear me? Can you move?” 

His voice was barely above a whisper as he spoke. Even if the werewolves weren’t coming back for her, there was no telling what other creatures may lurk in the vast woods around them and he wasn’t eager to alert any of them to their presence if he could avoid it. 

“Bloody shite--” Came her response, voice heavy and shaky, her words slurred. He watched as she tried to open her eyes but couldn’t quite manage it, her eyelids fluttering weakly. “I’ve had it rough before but this is just--ridiculous,” she added, voice still quiet and shaky. 

For a moment, Remus looked down at her, quietly perplexed by her particular choice of words, unnoticed by the woman whose eyes still blinked feebly as she tried to wake up. Something about her voice and the way she spoke seemed familiar to him but he couldn’t think why. And though not the response he was expecting exactly, he was at least glad she could hear him and was conscious on some level. As Dumbledore had said only hours ago, any victory, no matter how small, was still a victory. Being responsive was better than nothing/ Je only hoped that she could move as well, though if not, that was easily remedied. 

“Do you think you can sit up? Walk even?” He asked, his voice soft and smooth, speaking then at a more conversational level now that he was sure she could hear him. Though his voice was soothing, there was a slight urgency in his tone. It had taken precious time to find her in the first place and he still couldn’t be sure that her attackers wouldn’t come back for her. If she couldn’t walk, apparating would be out of the question and getting her out of the woods would be a much longer process. And full moon or not, if her attackers came back, they were still wizards and they didn’t need the full moon to cause her more harm as she was in no state to defend herself, and Remus was only one man. 

“We can’t stay here long,” he continued, the urgency in his voice picking up more. “I can take you somewhere--somewhere safe.”

Again she tried to open her eyes, blinking slowly. Her lips parted, her tongue darting out and tasting that familiar copper taste of blood. Through her have she felt a creeping sense of terror at the realization that while the blood coating her gums was her own this time, that might not always be the case. She didn’t need the unknown man kneeling beside her to tell her what had happened last night; she knew damn well what she’d done and what her punishment had been. She knew what she was now, what she would always be. 

She felt so stupid. Beyond stupid. Down right insane, suicidal even. That was the trouble with relying on adrenaline to get you through, that rush eventually ended. She couldn’t be sure when hers had come to a halt; perhaps it had been when that first bright shine of blue moonlight had lit the clearing and she’d realized how foolish she’d been to do this alone, or more likely when that first bite had torn through cloth and flesh, bringing her down so easily she might’ve been embarrassed if she hadn’t been in such agonizing pain. 

She didn’t even know when it all had stopped. All of them had closed in around her, each of them wanting their taste. They were there and then they weren’t, and as she’d drifted in and out of consciousness--night passing into day, day back into night--it seemed only a matter of time before she closed her eyes and never opened them again. The minuscule amount of energy she’d had, she used to drag herself to her father’s wand, grasping the bloody thing in her weak, shaky hand before falling unconscious once again, to be woken who knew how much later by the man before her now. 

“Ugh. Maybe--” She finally replied, her fingers tightening around her father’s wand, dragging her hands closer to her body. Slowly (she couldn’t do it any faster if she wanted to), she began to push herself onto her elbows, her lashes fluttering with the combined effort to prop herself up and not slip back into unconsciousness. Though she had yet to even catch a proper glimpse of her savior, let alone express her gratitude, she slumped against him as she tried to sit up, a lone word slipping from her tired tongue she didn’t say very often: “S-sorry--” Which was then followed by another rare-used phrase. “Thank you.”

Her voice was weak and hoarse and Remus could imagine how weak she must feel, how completely spent she must be after all that had happened to her. As young as he’d been when he’d first been attacked, he could still remember that night. 

Then, she rose tentatively, and he could tell it was taking an immense amount of strength for her to hold herself up, and he willingly let her settle against him to steady herself, and helped her into a sitting position as best he could without disturbing her too much or causing further pain, not to mention himself. His own muscles still ached from his recent transformation and he stifled a groan himself as he adjusted her until she was sitting upright. With as difficult as that was, he realized getting her to stand would be next to impossible.

“How--how did you--?”

“Find you?” He finished for her when her voice had cut off, a groan replacing the final words as she settled into a sitting position. 

“I er--I knew roughly the area...or at least where it was suspected you were,” he said, eyes fixed in the distance, ears listening for other sounds, trying to share his focus between her and their surroundings. Drops of water still fell from the trees above them and other small animals were beginning to come out of hiding, their sounds mingling together and making it difficult to tell the innocent ones apart from those that may be more sinister. He still hadn’t ruled out the possibility that The Seven had simply stashed her aside to come back for her at another time. 

“I guess you could say I’m familiar with werewolf attacks,” he continued, tearing his eyes from the dark forest around them to look back at the woman, her eyes now opened, revealing a pair of stunning blue eyes he was sure he had seen somewhere before. “It wasn’t hard to follow the trail.” Or the smell of blood, he added in his head. 

The woman let out a long, shaky breath as she sat up and tried to look around, the little blood remaining in her body rushing down from her head. There was that dull, distant throb growing and changing, morphing into a monstrous agony on all sides that left her choking on a cry. With her eyes open, she could see the red now, could see the shredded denim of her pants where vicious jaws had closed around her thigh. She could smell the blood and leather and, oh god--she remember. She remembered. The first bite had caused her knees to buckle, the second had brought her down. 

For all her father’s lessons on the dangers of dealing with werewolves, he’d never prepared her for how crudely calculating they could be when running in a pack. She thought they were supposed to be mindless under a full moon, but she could have sworn they took turns tearing into her. One after another after another, patiently awaiting the chance to sink their fangs into her flesh until her mind could no longer process the pain. 

“Shit,” she breathed, her voice a harsh whisper, each breath more tremulous than the last. “They fucked up my jacket,” she added, and there was a burning pain at the back of her throat, and she knew what was coming. 

Remus did too, could hear it in her voice, and though he was distracted for a moment by that nagging familiarity again at her words, her voice, her dark, quirky attempt at humor, he was unsurprised to hear the choked sob that escaped her. 

And then there were the accompanying tears--involuntary and humiliating, followed by a wave of nausea. She shuddered, using all of her limited strength to lean away from Remus, ducking her head to retch into the blood-soaked grass around her--only there was nothing for her stomach to expel. A brief, dark laugh followed the dry heave as she dug her blood-stained fingers into the dirt to force herself up again. 

As she retched, Remus placed a gentle hand on her back, moving her hair aside to keep it clean, though he should have known nothing would come up. He remembered that dry heaving well from his own attack so long ago. 

After several moments, silence broken only by her heavy, shaky breaths, she spoke again. “I might--be able to stand.” The words were noticeably forced but she just managed to get them out. “But if I try to apparate, I’ll lose what’s left of my--everything.”

“It’s a start,” he answered. “And I’ll help, of course. But I don’t think it’s wise to stay here. I think I can maybe conjure up a stretcher.” He could remember having learned how to do so a few years ago but his voice lacked a certain confidence in his ability. He’d never actually had occasion to perform the spell in the past. All he could hope for now was that knowing the theory would be enough. “Just to speed us up a little,” he continued. “My place isn’t too far from here.” On more than one occasion he’d used these very woods to transform himself. 

“Not even gonna buy me dinner first, huh?” She choked out, still facing away from him as she wiped at her tears. Even at her lowest possible moment, she couldn’t let the opportunity to make a crass joke pass her by. Anything to detract from her immensely vulnerable state. If she had just said ‘thank you’ like a normal person, then she might have really lost it.

Though if she had, Remus wouldn’t have felt that sense of familiarity yet again. Now he was damn near certain he knew this woman--her dry tone, poorly timed inappropriate jokes. She definitely reminded him of someone but he just couldn’t think who. At school he’d spent almost all of his time in the company of his three best friends, and while friendly with many others, he for some reason, he couldn’t place her.

Shaking the thoughts away, he turned away from her and tried to remember how to conjure a stretcher. Closing his eyes, he concentrated hard and waved his wand, uttering the incantation under his breath. When he opened his eyes again, it was with a sigh of relief that he saw a stretcher floating at his side. 

“At least that worked,” he said, more to himself than the woman as he turned back to where she sat and tried not to notice the tears she was quite obviously trying to conspicuously wipe away. 

“Gotta love that vote of confidence,” she said, voice thick with the emotions she was trying desperately to disguise. 

“We need to get you onto here...I could levitate you but I don’t know if that would do more harm.” Remus was far from being a healer. His knowledge of the effects of certain s[ells on wounds was minimal at best and he considered this an infuriating gap in his magical education. If anything went wrong, he could have her hanging upside down by her feet.

“Just--just lift me,” she said with a resigned sort of sigh. There was clearly not going to be anything glamorous about any part of this, that much was clear. What little dignity she’d had, if any, was surely gone after she’d clung to him while dry heaving through her tears. There was no use trying to restore any of it now. Humiliation was inevitable. The fucking story of her life. 

Remus nodded and pushed the stretcher down to the ground as he crouched behind her. Very carefully, he started to pull her up from her shoulders. She let out a groan of pain while Remus had to stifle one of his own. Skinny as she was, she still had to be at least over a hundred pounds of dead weight with the added need to be careful not to injure her further. 

“Sorry,” he whispered, as he continued to carefully maneuver her onto the stretcher. 

“It’s fine,” she answered through gritted teeth. 

After a painful minute or two, they had managed to get her lying down. From there, at least, Remus could levitate the stretcher without a problem and together they’d have to walk all the way back to his place. Hopefully once she recovered a bit, they would be able to move on to headquarters. His own place barely had room for himself but headquarters for the Order was far better equipped with space as well as remedies for her wounds. 

For some time now, wizards and witches from around England and the surrounding countries (as well as a few far off ones) had been coming to headquarters to assist in the fight against Voldemort. Some came for short spurts of time, just enough to give important updates or get further instructions, but some stayed a bit long term. Those who came from further away or those who had already lost their homes in attacks were welcomed to stay there. For all that they did, for the risks that they took, it was a small sacrifice to make to house them. 

“It’s not too far. Are you--are you comfortable?” Remus asked, sure of what her answer would be. 

“Oh, yeah. It’s like living in the Ritz,” she replied sarcastically. 

Again he looked at her, curiosity piqued, wondering how it was that he knew her, for now, he was certain he had known her. She looked about his age, so he was sure she had been in his year at Hogwarts, assuming she hadn’t gone to some other wizarding school. And with that Irish accent, he was sure she must have, but she hadn’t been in his house. He’d been more than casually familiar with most of the Gryffindors, even those not in his year, so he was sure she’d been in another house. But who was she?

And she seemed to feel that same sense of familiarity, of knowing him from somewhere because before too long, her voice rang out, finally less shaky. “I know you, don’t I?”

She wasn’t sure how exactly she knew him, and knew they hadn’t exactly been friends during school, but she knew they’d gone to school together. He was older, obviously, but she was sure she knew his face and not just in passing. Their paths had definitely crossed more than once. It was something about his eyes, a startling blue that held a sort of kindness she would recognize anywhere. Or at least she would’ve thought she’d recognize them and be able to place them.

Remus stopped then in his tracks, the stretcher stopping along with him with a slight jolt. “I think so,” he replied, feeling like he was finally getting close to remembering. And there was a strange feeling that they had been more than casual acquaintances, which made him surprised he couldn’t place her. But as he looked at her, really properly looked at her for the first time since he’d found her, he could see her properly. The light was coming out and with all the dried blood siphoned off, he could really see her and now it hit him like a ton of bricks. She was unmistakable in the daylight. One proper look was all it took for him to remember her quite vividly from their school days. 

“Wynonna Earp,” he stated as simple fact. He definitely remembered her now. She’d changed, no doubt as he had changed, in the years since Hogwarts, but he knew it was her. Now he understood why her particular acerbic sense of humor had struck such a chord with him. That much hadn’t changed at all from what he remembered of her. 

“Lupin,” he stated, just as matter-of-factly as he had. And she’d been right to think they hadn’t been friends. Not even close. In fact, she could remember having butted heads with him on more than one occasion. One particular instance stuck out with absurd clarity in her head. It was one of the first times she’d ever really spoken to him, and as the memory swam to the surface of her pain-fogged mind, it hadn’t been a pleasant exchange. There had been none of the kindness in those eyes of his on that day. 

“Yeah,” he replied, starting to walk again, a rather awkward silence falling between them. 

Like Wynonna, Remus was remembering one of the first times he’d properly spoken to her. They’d wound up in detention together and when he’d found out what had put her there, he was sure there was no one in Hogwarts he could have liked less than her. 

Even knowing her last name had been enough for him to have wanted to steer clear of her. She was an Earp, the family well known for hunting people like him. While she, nor the rest of the school, had known what he was, he had no desire to get close enough to her for her to figure it out. And he couldn’t help but harbor some kind of bad feelings toward her on association alone. Or at the very least, a sturdy, insistent indifference. Were he a worse man, he would have found the irony of her current predicament amusing, but all he felt was an immense sense of pity. He wouldn’t wish this fate on even his worst enemy. And having had an antagonistic relationship with her as a young man hardly made her an enemy at all. 

As if she’d read some of his thoughts, she let out a strangled laugh. “Ironic, isn’t it? Werewolf hunter turned werewolf? Guess I had it coming, huh?” 

He only hazarded a glance her way at those words and the noticeable emotion leaking into them, her attempts at force stoicism crumbling no doubt as she began to feel the crushing weight of what had happened to her. What was still to happen to her. 

He wondered what her family would think when they found out...assuming she told them at all. It wasn’t hard to see why she’d have reservations about doing so; they were hardly the most welcoming of her kind, and their daughter or not, he was sure the news would come as a crushing blow. And he had no idea how the rest of her family was; he’d made it a point during school to know as little about her as possible. He had preferred to see her as an enemy, feeling sure that that was how she’d see him if she’d known. 

“No,” he replied plainly, staring straight ahead, pointedly looking anywhere but back at her. And this time his voice was carrying a sudden harshness he rarely used. But the idea of someone, anyone deserving this fate made him sick to his stomach. “No one deserves this,” he finished as he kept walking. 

Again an awkward silence fell back between them, each now occupied with too many thoughts to be troubled with filling that silence with something as mundane as small talk. And at some point, Wynonna fell into a slumber, leaving Remus to ponder more on his school days, particularly those of Wynonna, getting lost in the memories.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Wynonna sleeps and Remus walks her back to headquarters for the Order, he remembers their first interaction during school.

It had been another torturous transformation a few nights ago and Remus, tired and achy was still feeling the effects. Though he was afforded certain allowances by the professors, all obviously aware of his condition, there were certain expectations he was to keep up just like any other student. Showing up on time to class was one of them, and regardless of his recent transformation, waking up had never been his strong suit, which had landed him yet again in detention for being late to class.

"Go on, Moony, talk to McGonagall about it. Lay it on thick if you have to about-you know," Sirius said, leaning in conspiratorially, flashing him a cheeky wink. "I've got plans tonight and it won't be the same without you."

Remus highly doubted this but said nothing as he adjusted the straps of his secondhand backpack as they walked down the corridor to lunch. "She's the one who gave me detention, Sirius. She's not about to let me off. It's not as if she doesn't know, but those are the rules, aren't they?"

Sirius simply scoffed, as he often did whenever that dreaded word was thrown around: rules. No one in school more fully embodied the word rebel than Sirius Black. A pure blood, born to one that fellow wizards referred to as the Sacred Twenty-Eight, a group of ancient wizarding families with the purest of magical blood, had been a rebel for as long as Remus had known him. His whole family had been Slytherins as far back as any of them could remember, but Sirius had wound up in Gryffindor, creating a scandalous uproar among those who knew his family and reputation well.

Sytherins and Gryffindors had sported a centuries long feud, all the way back to the days when Salazar Slytherin, one of the four founders of Hogwarts himself and Godrick Gryffindor had quarreled over the admittance rules for the students of Hogwarts. Slytherin, favoring those of pure blood, had proposed excluding all other students except those whose blood was pure, while Gryffindor, and the other founders, had staunchly disagreed, culminating in a fight that had Slytherin resigning his post at the school.

For Sirius's whole family to have been in Slytherin and for him to have wound up in Gryffindor, and quite proudly at that, was a true testament to just how unlike his family he was in certain ways. As proud as the rest of them were to be of noble Slytherin House, Sirius was proud not to be one. All around his house, he sported his differences from his family with unprecedented vigor. Needless to say, Sirius and his family didn't quite get along.

A rebel streak that had started in the home had extended to the farthest reaches it could, with Sirius now almost seeming to be against authority wherever it came from, for no particular reason other than fun. His adherence to his own rules were as strict as others were to those more conventional rules like showing up to class on time or not straying out of the dorms after hours. To him, the larger crime would have been staying in regardless of having a real reason to be out or not.

"You're supposed to be the good boy, Moony," Sirius groaned as they entered the great hall, walking towards the long table, already adorned with food where the other Gryffindors sat. "Why'd you have to go and land yourself in detention, huh?"

"Well, clearly I did it on purpose. Fancied myself a night of writing lines until my hands fall off," Remus replied, his voice dry and thick with sarcasm.

"All right you two, quit bickering," James joined in from in front of them, taking his seat at an empty portion of their house table, big enough for the three of them and Peter to sit. "And by that, I mean lay off him, Sirius."

James, at least, understood the situation, knew why he was tired, but more than that, he empathized with him in a way that Sirius had never been able to. Sirius saw Remus's condition as nothing more than a bit of run, an opportunity, really, while James saw the reality. Sure, James, Sirius, and Peter, his three best friends, had all trained in secret to become Anigmagi (a wizard that can turn himself into an animal at will), finally achieving it for the first time the year prior, to hopefully help ease Remus's transformations, James still knew what Remus had to go through was no picnic. And for that, Remus would be eternally grateful. Sirius, on the other hand, cared more for the prospect of rule breaking than to offer company to his friend in his painful hours of need.

"All right, all right-buzzkill," Sirius said, flopping effortlessly cooly into his seat at the table, causing several third year girls further down the table to gaze wistfully at him, something he never seemed to notice.

When evening classes finally ended and it was time for Remus to go to his detention, he waved his friends goodbye and headed toward McGonagall's classroom, hoping it would be something simple like writing lines. He didn't have the energy for Muggle cleaning, and that was an old favorite of the professor's, not to mention the caretaker who was saved one more mess to clean.

"Good evening, Mr. Lupin," McGonagall greeted in her usual stern tone, though she didn't entirely seem angry with him. She, too, empathized with him, but as he'd told Sirius, rules were rules. He'd shown up late to class and now he had to pay the price.

"Evening professor," he answered quietly. Remus, though something of a troublemaker when paired with James, Sirius, and Peter, did try to keep himself out of too much trouble. After all that Dumbledore had done for him, the lengths to which he'd gone to ensure that Remus would be able to go to school just like any other young boy, the least he could do was not try to flout the rules too much. Just enough to have a bit of fun, never to be disrespectful.

Looking around, he saw a few others sharing his fate. There were two older boys huddled together at a table looking murderous in Professor McGongall's direction, and a girl Remus knew by reputation only: Wynonna Earp.

Only the past summer over the holidays had his father told him about her family, and since then, he'd started to notice her more and more in the halls despite himself. Even before, he'd heard her name, rarely accompanied by anything good. Boys liked to brag about snogging her and getting with her, and girls, probably those who fancied said boys, had only nasty things to say about her. All of that had been easy enough for Remus to ignore and not let cloud his judgement of a girl with whom he'd never spoken, but what his father had told him about her family hadn't been so easy to shake.

Throwing his bag lazily off his shoulder, he slumped into the empty seat at the opposite end of the table she was sitting at before focusing his attention on Professor McGonagall. She came around, handing each of them quills and parchment, giving each their individual phrases they were to copy out for the duration of their detention.

"And no gum, Ms. Earp," McGonagall said as she handed her a bit of parchment and quill.

"Aw, come on, Minerva, what's a bit of gum going to do, eh?"

"Professor McGonagall," she corrected, tight lipped and severe as ever.

"Oh, right, sorry," she replied, sounding anything but. "Entertained, are you?" She then asked Remus, having caught him eavesdropping on the pair of them rather than starting in on his own punishment.

"No," he responded dryly, though his cheeks betrayed him as a touch of crimson colored them as he turned his attention to his parchment in front of him. If he didn't get enough lines written in this detention, he'd just wind up with another one the next day, and he couldn't handle another day of Sirius's whining about being denied the fun he craved.

"I know you. You're friends with that Potter kid, right?"

"Yeah, James Potter's friend, that's me," Remus answered. Again his voice was dry, devoid of emotion, wishing simply to answer her question as shortly as possible, so she might leave him alone. He couldn't rightly say that he disliked her; he didn't know her. What he could say, however, was that he had no particular interest in knowing her. Or at least he tried not to, trying to have what little opinion he had of her be enough, though there was a certain level of curiosity about her he couldn't fight. He supposed he had his father to thank for that.

"Lupin, right?" She asked, taking note of his indifferent tone but caring little for its implications. If anything it simply spurned her on further. "Thought you were the goody two-shoes of the group," she added, shooting him an infuriating smirk, sucking on the end of a sugar quill she'd opted for instead of the one Professor McGonagall had handed her. "What got you landed in here then?"

"Late to class," came his short reply.

"And the chatty one, too, aren't you?" She asked in her Irish accent, thickening the more she spoke, forcing Remus's attention to her once again.

"Not as chatty as you," he said, already beginning to abandon hope that she'd leave him be no matter how he answered her questions. He had a sneaking suspicion he could have remained quiet and she still would have insisted on asking him things. For what reasons, he could never begin to fathom, though if he had to hazard a guess, he'd say boredom. In that moment, she reminded him of Sirius, breaking the rules simply for the sake of it.

"Well, I don't fancy writing lines."

"You don't say?" Remus responded sarcastically. "What'd you do then?" If she was going to keep talking, he figured he may as well just go along with it. Besides, there was still that nagging curiosity tugging at him, pressing him to question her in return. She did have quite a reputation about her, and though he'd never admit it, with the opportunity waiting for him, he wanted to know if any of it was true.

"Got caught out after curfew the other night," she replied, without elaborating.

Remus actually laughed in response-so mundane, so simple. In his mind's eye, he'd concocted a detailed scandal involving numerous members of the Hufflepuff quidditch team in the locker room after practice. Even as he thought it though, he scolded himself for buying into, even for a moment, those wild rumors surrounding her extracurricular activities.

Then he smiled, reminiscing of his own nighttime wanderings after hours. Be it under the cover of James's invisibility cloak or flanked on either side by his friends in their respective animal forms, Remus was no stranger to breaking curfew. It was such a childish pastime he allowed himself to revel in. So long as they nerve really got up to any real troublemaking. But by now, their explorations of the vast castle had revealed to them a true treasure trove of possibilities and wonder. They all now knew the castle so well, they could have walked it's fathomless depths in their sleep without so much as getting caught on a trip stair.

"Trying to sneak into the Hog's Head?" It was a common pastime for older students in particular to sneak out of the castle to the seedy pub down the lane in Hogsmeade where it was rumored that the local barman never turned down a sickle, even from a Hogwarts student. Most of the other shops that held particular appeal to students were closed by that time of night, and The Three Broomsticks didn't allow underage wizards after nightfall; that was common knowledge. So the Hog's Head was his next best guess.

"Too boring," she replied coolly, sucking once again on the tip of her sugar quill, drawing his attention to her mouth, which he instantly regretted.

Though quiet, reserved, and rather more polite than many of his peers, he was not so above the occasional fantasy involving girls in his class, and with so many stories circulating about Wynonna, there was very little that he had to truly imagine. And though he'd never paid much attention before, sitting there across from her now, forced to look at her properly, he couldn't deny that she was pretty, despite her uninviting expression.

"I was trying to get into that tunnel at the bottom of the Whomping Willow," she continued, completely unaware of the thoughts currently running unbidden through Remus's head as she sucked on her sugar quill. "Rumor has it there's a wild and deadly beast in there. I was hoping to catch a look."

As Remus was still at least attempting to complete the task set to him as punishment, he was still writing his lines as he listened, but at her words, his quill scratched loudly over his parchment as his movements came to an abrupt stop as he turned to her, his blood simmering to a low boil. That boyish smile that had only moments ago graced his prematurely lined features vanished as though he'd been doused with cold water. Wynonna noticed nothing.

She sat there, completely unaware what memories were now tormenting his mind. Just last year, Sirius had been equally flippant about what lie at the end of that tunnel, and as she so casually mentioned not only the tunnel, but the beast that lurked at the end, the beast she had no way of knowing was in fact the boy sitting across from her, that simmering boil of his blood heightened.

He would never forget what had happened the year before. Sirius had come up with what he'd thought was the most brilliant and amusing trick to play on Severus Snape, a sallow faced Slytherin boy with whom James and Sirius in particular had harbored a years' long grudge on. In fact, from the very moment of their arrival at Hogwarts, they had been enemies through and through, both taking it in turn to torment the other at every available opportunity.

On Snape's side, he had made it his personal mission to catch them misbehaving, perhaps even get them expelled. Before too long, he had caught onto a particular pattern in Remus's behavior. While it was James and Sirius he truly wished to thwart, Remus, being their friend, was a close second. Landing one of their closest friends on a one-way train back to London would more than suffice.

Sirius, of course, knew well of Snape's suspicions about Remus, knew that he had deduced the clues as he himself had done years ago, adding it all up to come to the one sure conclusion that would explain Remus's monthly absences from school; he was a werewolf. So, Sirius had devised a plan to make him pay for putting his greasy nose where it didn't belong.

One night he had told Snape that if he really wanted to know what Remus was up to, then all he had to do was press the knot at the bottom of the Whomping Willow and follow the path within. At the end, Sirius had warned with appropriate ominousness, he'd find all the answers he was looking for. Naturally, Snape had taken the bait at once. So consumed with proving to the professor's that the four boys were a menace to the school and should be expelled at once, he didn't think twice about following his sworn enemy's directions.

Regrettably, he found far more than he bargained for at the end of that tunnel. Despite his suspicions about what he was sure would await him, Snape had never actually seen a werewolf in person. Having read about them in books, and being an intelligent, learned boy, he was sure he knew what to expect.

He was wrong. He had not at all been prepared for the haunting sight that greeted him when he reached his quarry. Remus, transformed, and remiss of all that made him human had seen him out of the corner of his eye as he howled and scratched at himself, and turned to go running after him, ready to sink his deadly fangs into him and rip him limb from limb. It's what his kind did. When in front of humans, all they wanted was to rip and tear.

Luckily for all involved, James had learned of Sirius's plans just in time. He had chased after Snape the very moment he'd found out, catching up with him just as Remus's wolfish eyes had locked onto their target. Being rather smaller than Remus in his werewolf form, James had been able to scurry away quickly through the old shack, dragging a shaken Snape along with him.

James had taken Snape straight to the infirmary where the nurse had given him something for the shock. With Snape now knowing conclusively what Remus was, James had no choice but to inform the nurse what had caused such an intense shock, and Dumbledore had been called to intervene.

Seething, Snape had been sworn to secrecy about what he had seen but all the same, wild rumours had flitted through the halls after that night about that tunnel and the horror that lied at the end. It had then become the belief of those in Remus's year that instead of the particularly violent spirits that had once been rumored to inhabit the Shrieking Shack that many now believed lie at the end of the tunnel, harbored an even more fearsome, deadly beast. Remus was ashamed to be the very beast all his peers feared.

After Remus had awoken the next day, making his way, as usual, to the infirmary to be looked after and cleared to return to classes, he had, of course, been told of what his friend had done. They had suffered a terrible falling out. Their thread of friendship had always been a bit more thin than either would have others believe, but after that night, it was hanging on by the thinnest of threads. On Remus's side, it still was, though he remained cordial, hiding his pain, distrust and resentment deep within, as deep as the beast he turned into once a month.

Sirius just simply hadn't understood, or if he did, he just didn't care. Without caution or care, Sirius had put Remus's entire livelihood at risk that night. Had his plan succeeded, Remus would not simply have been expelled. There was a very strong possibility that he would have been executed, put down.

Wizards held very little sympathy for werewolves and had Remus killed another student, even if he'd been unaware of it at the time, there's no telling what would have happened to him. Dumbledore's hands would have been tied and there was every likelihood that Remus would have been turned over to the Committee for the Disposal of Dangerous Creatures. And even if he'd been allowed to remain at school, no parent would want their child to be in school with someone like him, and Dumbledore would have been forced to kick him out for the safety of his students.

Sirius, his own friend, had knowingly tried to use him as a murder weapon for a betty school boy feud. And though Wynonna knew none of that, and had no way of knowing any of that, Remus still felt a burning sense of rage at her for her foolishness.

"You're not too bright, are you?" He asked finally, his voice full of a cold venom that sounded so foreign on his tongue. Even as he spoke the words, he felt like gagging on the taste of it. The only time he could remember speaking that way was with Sirius after what he'd done, and he knew that Wynonna didn't deserve it.

"Excuse me?" She replied defensively, noticing the marked change in his tone and demeanor, knowing that he wasn't joking. He was calling her stupid and that was plain to see.

Taking the sugar quill out of her mouth, she glared across the table at him, eyes narrowed. "You don't even know me," she barked through gritted teeth, keeping her voice down as best she could lest Professor McGonagall hear her, though it proved difficult. As if she didn't hear it from everyone else, professors, students, her own family and so-called friends of her many shortcomings, she especially didn't care to hear them from a boy she hardly knew.

Remus scoffed openly, again making him cringe inwardly at his rudeness. It was enough to be a monster once a month; he did his best to not be one every other day, but she had unwittingly stumbled on a touchy subject. "I'm starting to think I'm one of the lucky ones for it," he replied, his voice as biting as her own. "But I think I know plenty about you. Between what I've heard," he said with a rather pointed look, alluding to those sultry tales shared by so many of the boys in their year, "and this, I think I know all I need to know."

"You don't know shite," Wynonna said, nearly shouting now, and more than loud enough for McGonagall to hear and make her way to them. Upon her arrival, she turned, hastily wiping at her eye with her sleeve to hide the shimmering tear of anger and frustration brimming there.

"Ms. Earp," McGonagall hissed, her lips as thin as paper. "Explain yourself," she demanded, hands on her hips.

"No, I don't think I will actually," Wynonna replied, none of the playful tone she'd had earlier when addressing their professor.

"No?"

"No," she answered, her tone flat, decided.

McGonagall simply stared back at her.

Under the weight of the older woman's gaze, Wynonna sighed, gritting her teeth and offering a smile of contempt. "It's nothing, Minerva. Don't get your knickers in a twist,"" she said, adopting the playful tone once more, however, this time, it was noticeably forced.

"Detention again tomorrow, . And the day after until you can learn to address me with respect."

Wynonna said nothing, knowing when it was best to hold her tongue. Though she didn't look happy about it as she returned to glaring daggers at Remus across the table, not only for what he'd said to her, but for the fact that he'd not gotten in trouble too. He'd been talking as well.

"You don't know shite," she repeated through clenched teeth, throwing a cautionary glance at Professor McGonagall who had returned to grading papers at the front of the room. As she glared, tears still welled in the corner of her eyes-out of anger or sadness, even Wynonna didn't know.

"Sure, I do. Bet you thought it'd be a lot of fun to go poke the bear, huh? No regard whatsoever to what's on the other end."

"What do you care?" she spat.

"You could have been killed, you know that?" He asked scathingly, imagining himself in his werewolf form, tearing into her small frame with his huge, sharp teeth, imagining the fall out the following morning when he'd be marched from school and executed for murdering a fellow student.

"Yeah, well, maybe that was the fucking point," she said, her voice shaking with her anger now, and tears no longer threatening to fall. Instead they streaked down her slender face. Remus balked, dumbfounded by her response, feeling a great surge of guilt replacing the anger he'd felt moments ago. And before he could clarify what she'd said, what her words had meant, or even apologize for his harsh words, she'd stood.

"Fuck you," she said, grabbing her backpack from the floor and heading toward the door, leaving her parchment and quill behind, ignoring Professor McGonagall's calls for her to return.

"Rain check, Minerva," she called out, slamming the door shut behind her.

Professor McGonagall turned her eyes on Remus and he looked down, ashamed, laying Wynonna's words over and over again in his head, struck painfully with their implications.

Scratching out his prescribed phrase for the remainder of the detention, he felt completely and properly ashamed of himself. There he was telling Wynonna to think of the consequences of her actions, to think of how what she did could have affected others, all while failing to have done the same in return. Words could be as painful as actions, and his had been unnecessarily cruel, thinking the worst of her without truly knowing.

It had never crossed his mind that someone would hope to meet their own end at the end of that tunnel. Always, he had assumed people were out to expose him, to discover what lie hidden on the other side of the tunnel, feeling hatred toward them for not knowing or caring that his life hung in the balance depending on the outcome. He felt guilty for having been so harsh with her now realizing that she'd wanted the beast within to kill her, not the other way around.

She was right: he didn't know shite.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Remus and Wynonna make it back to headquarters.

After some time, Remus finally reached his destination. With Wynonna fast asleep, fine to float along beside Remus, he'd instead taken her directly to headquarters. Once there, he'd guided her stretcher into the drawing room of the old home they were using as headquarters before gently prodding her awake.

Blinking her eyes open, Wynonna looked around, taking in the dark interior of the room. With what little she knew of Remus and how he looked, she found herself surprised to be in such an ornate room. Though clearly long-abandoned, the place had surely once been owned by someone wealthy.

"Nice digs," she said sarcastically.

"This isn't my place."

"Changed your mind, huh? Gonna buy me dinner now?"

Remus resisted the urge to roll his eyes, but only just. "You were asleep. I figured I'd just take you here instead," he said, reaching out a hand to help pull her into a sitting position. From there, he helped her stand. He kept one hand tight on her bicep to be sure she was steady enough to stand on her own. Her rest seemed to have rejuvenated her enough for that, so he then vanished the stretcher; they didn't need it any longer.

"Uh-where exactly is here?" Wynonna asked, again taking a look around the dim room they were in.

"Headquarters."

"For what?"

"The Order of the Phoenix."

Wynonna had to laugh at that, wincing and pain and clutching at her obviously cracked ribs as a result. It was just too funny. Though she could hardly be considered a dark wizard, despite the pastime her family partook in, she could also hardly be considered part of the resistance. The Earps looked out for the Earps and that was that. She'd kept herself to herself as she always had.

Ever since she was a girl in school, she'd been something of an outcast. She hadn't bothered picking sides as a student in any matter either. She was a lone-wolf so to speak, and she let out a soft, bitter laugh at the irony of that particular phrasing. But it was true. She'd had very few close friends to speak of. Whenever petty squabbles had started among the other girls in her year, she'd never given a single thought to picking any side, let alone fighting for anyone else. She looked out for number one. Well, number one, and her younger sister Waverly. Waverly first and then herself, really. In fact, she took care of herself only so that she could be there for Waverly. Even then, Wynonna had no true desire for self-preservation.

"It's better than the alternative if I hadn't found you first," he replied softly, shrugging. It wasn't ideal, and he knew someone would be unhappy about it, but Dumbledore had trusted him to make the right call, and she was safer here while she recovered than anywhere else. They wouldn't just kick her to the curb, vulnerable to another attack should The Seven come looking for her again.

Wynonna shrugged back. She supposed that was true after all. Her family had made itself rather unpopular on both sides of the aisle. As many werewolves, particularly in the current climate, were turning to Voldemort, lapping up his offered promises of protections and rights they'd been denied for centuries by wizards, promises of an end to their descrimination, she'd made herself more enemies than just The Seven. A werewolf hunter? Yeah, she wasn't popular with the other side either.

"Can't argue with you there," she replied dryly. "So what, you inducting me into the Order now, are you?"

"Not exactly, but my place doesn't have the space to keep you while you recover-"

"Recover?" Wynonna scoffed, cutting him off. "Thanks, but I think I'll be alright. Just need a little pick-me-up," she said. Then, bending down, she rolled up the hem of her right pant leg.

"Oh, you've got to be fucking kidding me," she groaned, standing up and then bracing herself on Remus as the sudden change in position made her dizzy.

"Are you all right?" He asked, steadying her, eyes flicking quickly over her face, trying to discern what had happened.

"I've lost my fuckin' whiskey."

Remus sighed, shaking his head before he pulled his arms away from her once he was sure she was steady again. "A true necessity, I'm sure."

"Don't suppose I can get a drink here somewhere then?"

Remus stared, not entirely sure if she was serious. "Uhm..I'm uh-well, I'm going to have to patch up your wounds first. I did what I could get you mobile but it's not going to last. They need to be treated properly." He paused then, avoiding her eyes as he knew it would be an unpleasant experience for the both of them. The sheer number and severity of the wounds was part of it, but the placement of them as well. Every inch of her body was marred with bites and scratches-every inch. "After that, I think it'd just be cruel to deny you a drink," he finished, still avoiding those piercing blue eyes of hers.

"Are you a healer?" She asked, avoiding his eyes in return. She, too, was thinking of the logistics of patching her wounds, knowing what would be required of her so that he could tend to her. Under different circumstances, Wynonna had no problem showing strangers her body; it was, in fact, a frequent pastime of hers, but this was different.

Those other times it had been her choice, an empowering decision of her own to do what she pleased with her body and with whomever she chose. Then she had chosen for herself to whom she would expose her body and she could show them as much or as little as she pleased. In those moments, there had been no vulnerability to speak of. Now was another story entirely.

She didn't have a choice this time and she wasn't sure she was truly ready. Even she didn't know to what extent her injuries were and how mangled her body would look. She would be revealing this new body to him as much as herself. Though it may have been silly to have felt insecure about her body in light of luckily being alive at all, she couldn't help it. Especially not this man, who she knew now was not actually a stranger to her. She'd dreamt of their time together during their school years-yeah, she was definitely going to need a drink after this all right.

He almost laughed at her question, at the irony of someone thinking he could be a healer. "No, I'm not," he said, shrugging out of his jacket. "But I do know how to treat werewolf wounds."

"Oh yeah, an expert are you?" She asked, looking at him, shocked to see such a frail looking man beneath his jacket. She'd been expecting someone a bit stronger looking. As he stood beneath the light, Wynonna thought he actually looked almost sick. Was he suffering some sort of chronic illness?

"You could say that."  
"And why's that?" She asked, seemingly oblivious to Remus's obvious desire to avoid this line of questioning. Everything about his face, turned deliberately away from her, to his posture, also angled away from her, screamed that he had no interest in revealing the answer to that.

And he thought of ignoring her, too, brushing off the question. While all those in the Order knew about what he was, and likely just as many people on the opposite side, it wasn't something he liked to tell people. He found it often changed how they treated him, and enver for the better.

"I'm a werewolf," he finally answered, now turning to face her, determinedly looking her in the eye as if trying to prove he wasn't ashamed about it. "I've been treating my own for years; know what I'm doing."

His words had her shifting uncomfortably and looking away from him. She did, however, surprise herself in not violently jerking away from him. She may be a werewolf herself now, but her prejudice hadn't evaporated overnight. If anything, it had increased it. Something though kept her rooted to the spot and she couldn't say for sure-nor would she admit it if that were the case-but she thought it just might have been that softness in his blue eyes. It wasn't easy to be afraid of anyone who looked at her with that kind of softness.

Remus noticed her shifting but didn't think much of it. She must be uncomfortable for a myriad of reasons. This place was completely unknown to her and she'd been taken there while unconscious. She had no idea where she was or who else would be there. And though he was sure she too now remembered him, they may as well have been strangers. Neither were who they had been the last time their paths had crossed.

Then, Remus nearly jumped as someone else stepped into the drawing room, saving both of them any awkwardness that had stirred up in their collective silence.

"Remus," came a short, gruff greeting from a rather hard looking man. His face was noticeably battle worn and looked just as intimidating as he sounded. His hand was gripped tightly around his wand, knuckles white, as though he expected he would have to use it despite being in their safe house.

"Alastor," Remus said, inclining his head toward the older man, nodding in greeting. He was a touch less intimidating to those who knew him well. But even they knew he wasn't someone to be messed with.

"Who's this?" Alastor asked, jerking his empty hand in Wynonna's direction, surveying her carefully. It looked as though he was trying to ascertain whether she was a threat or not.

"Dumbledore sent me out last night to retrieve the victim of an attack," Remus explained, and inclining his head now in Wynonna's direction.

Wynonna bristled as being referred to as a victim but said nothing, her eyes locked on the other man, appraising him just as he was her. He grunted once at her and Wynonna wondered it was a disapproving sort of grun or if that was simply his response to everything. If it was the latter, she could understand; she often wished she could just growl and grunt at people if she didn't like that. Hell, sometimes she did.

"What's going on Alastor?" Dumbledore's calm, steady voice called from the room Alastor had evidently vacated moments ago. The drawing room was small and full of breakable objects so it often went unused for meetings or anything at all at headquarters, so it was natural that a group of people within would draw their leader's attention.

"Just Remus and…" Alastor trailed off, realizing he'd not been properly introduced. It suited him fine; she didn't look like she planned on sticking around. Something about her reminded him of a frightened cat, ready to flee.

"Just call me a stray," Wynonna offered sardonically.

Alastor grunted again.

"Ah, Remus," Dumbledore said, stepping into the room. "You found her then, I see," he added, nodding and offering Wynonna a soft smile.

"Well, look who it is," Wynonna said, smiling a smile that looked to Remus to be the first true one he'd ever seen grace her attractive features since he'd found her in the woods. And maybe even ever. "Albus, good to see you again," she finished, grinning.

Dumbledore smirking as he eyed her over the top of his half-moon spectacles. She'd always called him by his first name when she'd been a student at Hogwarts a few years back, and without meaning to, it had become something of an inside joke between them. Dumbledore had been the only person at Hogwarts who'd never made any objections to being called thus. Yet, for Wynonna, that fact had never taken away from the fun of it.

"You as well, Ms. Earp," he said with a polite nod. "Though I do regret the particular circumstances of our reunion," he added in a somewhat somber tone. "I am glad that Remus was able to find you. Of course, I didn't know it was you, but…" Dumbledore waved his hand vaguely. "I trust he's taken good care of you?"

"Oh, yeah, he's been a right gentleman," Wynonna replied, her voice sarcastic but she did shoot Remus a sidelong glance of thanks out of the corner of her eye.

"Good, good, very good. Was the journey smooth then?" Dumbledore asked, directing his question to Remus.

"Yes...it didn't take me too long to find her. She was-is-pretty banged up, but I was able to get her on a stretcher and I walked her here."

"Too weak to apparate?"

"Yes, but that's to be expected."

Wynonna looked between them, more than a touch peeved at being talked about rather than to seeing how she was standing right there as well. Hurt as she may be, she was more than capable of speaking for herself.

"Oi-" she chimed in, her irritation evident. "I wasn't kidding about that drink."

Remus turned to her before Dumbledore could answer. "I really think we should tend to your wounds first. If they get infected-" He trailed off, somewhat ominous. Werewolf wounds were painful enough as it was, but if they got infected, she'd have to be taken to the hospital. In times like these, that was far too dangerous. Too many questions would be asked and her treatment there would not be ideal. The stigma against werewolves would prevent anyone from caring too much whether she lived or died. Not while so many other wizards needed treatment.

"Ah, I think Remus is right, Ms. Earp. Let him tend to your wounds first, if you would, and you can have whatever you'd like from the collection. I do regret the selection may not be the best."

"I don't need the best, just need strong," she replied. "Let's get on with it then," she added, turning then to Remus. Again, she looked anywhere but in his eyes. She feared the softness she'd see there would make her weak, and she felt weak and vulnerable enough as it was.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Remus patches up Wynonna.

“There’s an empty room upstairs we can use. You’ll stay there, too, until you’re able to leave.”

“Got it, boss,” she replied, saluting him, then groaning in pain from the movement. Though she thought there wasn’t a chance in hell she’d be staying here after he patched her up, she didn’t say so out loud. She wasn’t going to argue with him about it. 

Slowly, and somewhat uncomfortably, Remus took Wynonna upstairs to the empty room. As a tidal wave of pain crashed over her with every step, Remus had to half carry her up there, and though it hurt him as well, he didn’t mind. She needed the help and he enjoyed being helpful. It was often the very least he could do: Offering a shoulder for someone and he would do it at every opportunity. 

Once in the room, she slipped out of her ripped and ruined leather jacket and he helped her onto the bed, trying to make her as comfortable as he could given the circumstances. There was unfortunately no comfortable way to do what he was about to do. While he couldn’t begin to guess how Wynonna felt about her current situation or what she would feel about her scars, he knew how  _ he _ felt about his own and he would never wish to be in a position to put them on display before a near stranger, let alone someone he had  _ hated _ at one point in his life. 

“I just need to get some things,” he said as she lay there. 

Wynonna watched him as he walked to an end table in the corner of the room, pulling a few vials from within as well as some bandages. With each passing moment, a creeping nervousness settled in the pit of her stomach, threatening to empty the contents therein or maybe just more dry heaving. She still hadn’t eaten anything since Remus had found her. When he turned to walk back to her, she almost froze, paralyzed with something like fear but far worse,  _ vulnerability _ . 

Without speaking, he started tending to her wounds. First working on the arm closest to the bed, covering each scar in turn with a mixture of powdered silver and dittany. It was the only thing that could staunch the flow of blood from a werewolf bite. There was no cure, but the deep bites and cuts could be treated with this mixture, keeping the victim from bleeding to death. Though many in history have begged healers treating them to be allowed to bleed out rather than suffer the fact of living as a werewolf. 

After each cut had been covered with the mixture, Remus covered them with some ordinary muggle bandages to keep it all together. With one arm done, he moved to the next, asking quietly for her assistance when needed but otherwise keeping quiet. 

Part of her was grateful for the silence; this was awkward and uncomfortable enough without some sort of forced bullshit small talk, but another part of her wished he’d say  _ something,  _ anything to break the silence crushing down on her, leaving her to the mercy of her own thoughts. If he didn’t break the silence soon enough, she may have to do it herself and Merlin only knows what spittle would fly from her mouth at a time like this, her vulnerability forcing her to be even more awkward and inappropriate than usual. 

At first, she didn’t even notice he was finished with her other arm, so lost in her own thoughts, until she noticed him staring at her, fidgeting uncomfortably. 

“Er--that’s all I can get to with you dressed.”

Wynonna tried to sit up, prepared to protest, but a stinging pain in her gut made her stop, falling back to the bed with a groan. “No, listen, it’s fine,” she groaned, her eyes shut with the pain, her hands clutching at the wounds that had no doubt started to bleed afresh beneath her shirt. “You got the worst of them, I’ll be fine.”

“Wynonna...I can see some of them through the shirt as is and they  _ won’t _ be fine.”

“Well, just show me what the hell you’re doing and I’ll do it myself.”

“You can’t do it on your own, Wynonna, please. Let me help you,” he insisted, his voice quiet and calming and she hated him a little bit for it. Why couldn’t he be the stern and pushy type? That would have been more familiar. That she could have worked with and told him in not so many words to  _ fuck off _ . But this? This quiet carefulness disarmed her. It was almost worse than being attacked in the first place-- _ almost _ . 

“Sure I can.”

“Look, I know it’s not comfortable, but it has to be done. You’ll bleed to death if I do nothing.”

“Yeah, well, whatever, so I bleed to death,” she said. She didn’t really mean it and knew she sounded like an over-dramatic teenager, but if it got him to let her do it herself, she’d consider it a win.

“Please, I’ll try to be quick, I promise, but you need to let me do this. I understand what it’s like, but---”

“Do you?” She asked, her tone biting. Even as she said it, knowing what she now knew about him, it lacked any lethality because she knew he probably  _ did _ understand. And that annoyed the shit out of her. 

“I do. Now,  _ please _ , let me do this.” Pausing for a moment, he thought perhaps a change of tactics was in need. “Besides, the quicker I get this done, the quicker you can raid the liquor cabinet downstairs.”

When he smiled at her, Wynonna again felt a wave of nausea. There was  _ no way _ someone could be as gentle and understanding as him. Her whole life had been a testament to that. Instead of more dry heaving though, she found herself smiling despite herself. 

“A man after my own heart,” she said, though it was still forced. Nevertheless, she agreed. Sitting up, she attempted to take her shirt off, wincing and groaning again with the combined effort of sitting up and actually  _ using _ what little strength she had regained throughout the course of the day. 

“Let me,” Remus said, his voice soft, looking her in the eyes, and she felt herself letting her hands fall without ever really consciously making the decision in her head to let him. 

He was just as gentle with this as he had been with everything else and she couldn’t help but notice the way he intentionally avoided looking her in the eye or worse, taking advantage of the opportunity afforded to him. Not that it could have really been considered much of one at the moment with her bruised and mangled flesh. She must look more like a freshly beaten slab of meat than the body of a woman that would draw a man’s eye but that didn’t mean that would have stopped others anyway. He was being respectful and she appreciated it. 

Once she was undressed, left in nothing but her undergarments, also rather tattered and ripped from the attack, he tended to her wounds once again. First the mixture and then the bandages, treating each of them with the utmost care. The whole time, he touched only where he absolutely needed to and feigned ignorance when tears started to well in her eyes once again. 

After what seemed an eternity to her, she heard him putting the stopper back on the vial of the dittany and silver mixture and wrapping up the bag of muggle bandages. “That’s it.” he said, looking into his lap rather than at her. “I grabbed some clothes for you to wear. They’re a little baggy, but I thought that may be easier. They won’t rub against anything and they’ll be easier to get on.”

Waving his wand, he summoned the clothing and set them on the edge of the bed for her. 

When he looked up and met her gaze, Wynonna stared back at him as if she were only just finally getting to really look at him. And before she could stop herself, she said, “Why are you being so nice to me?”

Remus, having turned away under the weight of her gaze, starting to gather the soiled bandages, he paused, staring back at her with a curious look in his eyes. He thought it was an odd question.

“I hardly think I’m doing anything anyone else wouldn’t do,” he replied, taking out his wand and vanishing the bandages and cleaning the surrounding area of her blood. “Is there a reason I shouldn’t be nice to you?”

Her mind couldn’t help but wander back to how he’d found her, body so broken and bleeding--helpless. She hated the feeling more than most, even worse having to depend on someone she used to all but bully in school. He had less reason than others to help her at all. 

“I dunno,” she replied, glib as ever. “People don’t usually have to ask me for a reason, they just come prepared.”

He hummed thoughtfully, knowing that some years ago she was known to give people plenty reason to be rude to her, himself included. “Well, I don’t hold grudges,” he replied, still sitting beside her, his eyes fixed on some point above her shoulder. That wasn’t strictly true, of course; there were many things he wasn’t so easy to forgive but their tension in school wasn’t one of them--if only because at part of him had even enjoyed it at the time. 

“Sounds like a load of shite to me, but...if you say so.”

Wynonna didn’t really believe anyone when they claimed not to hold a grudge. She’d known too many people who made that claim just to turn around and prove they were full of it. How was she supposed to trust any kindness? She wouldn’t even know what to do with it if she  _ could _ tell the real from the fake. 

“Nobody deserves this,” he added after a moment of silence, this time looking into her eyes, not as shocked to see a softness to them he’d certainly never seen when they were kids. 

Wynonna frowned then, grabbing a shirt from the pile of clothes he’d placed on the edge of her bed and turning away as she pulled it back on, grimacing as the movement tugged at still-healing flesh. “Irony not sweet enough for you yet?”

“Irony?” He asked, turning away himself as she pulled her shirt on, trying to offer her some semblance of privacy despite having seen more than she ever would have wanted him to. 

Mulling over her words, he felt certain he knew what she meant. As soon as he’d realized who she was when he’d found her and brought her back here, he couldn’t avoid thinking about the likely reason she’d been in those woods on a full moon to begin with. She and her family were well-known werewolf hunters. 

“Do you mean because your family hunts werewolves?” He asked, turning back to look at her once he heard her movements stop and he was sure she was covered once more. “Or--?” He almost asked if she was referring to having gone looking for a werewolf on another occasion but stopped when he looked at her. He remembered the day well and it seemed neither fair nor appropriate to bring it up now. If she’d had the same goal in mind this time, it felt like adding insult to injury to draw attention to the fact that her failure may even be worse than had she succeeded. 

Wynonna glanced at Remus sharply when he hung in silence on that ‘or’, wondering where he’d almost gone and somehow glad he hadn’t just the same. 

“As a matter of fact.” Wynonna reached for her jacket out of habit almost to put it back on tossing it away as a lost cause. It wasn’t the armor she was used to anymore; it was just as broken and frail as she was now. “Not that I’m primed for taking over the family business or anythin’--I was hunting seven  _ specific _ werewolves in particular. But in all seriousness--who do I have to  _ fuck _ to get a damn drink around here.”

Remus flushed, not entirely used to hearing her particular brand of vulgarity from anyone within the Order, save for maybe Sirius. “Er--uhm, well I’m sure there’s something down in the kitchen.”

Wynonna grinned at his blushing, feeling transported back in time to her school days when she used to do everything in her power to elicit that sort of response from him. Not that it had been particularly difficult. He wasn’t like most of the other boys in his year, he was more quiet, shy almost, with more  _ delicate _ sensibilities. All she’d had to do then was lick her lips in his direction and he’d turn pink. 

“Well lead the way, then, Lu,” she said, pushing herself from the bed into a standing position. “You promised me a drink.” And she winked, as if he needed more incentive to give her said drink. 


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Remus tends to Wynonna's wounds and James and Lily join them at headquarters for a drink.

Together the pair headed back downstairs. As had been the case when they’d gone up, Wynonna had to cling tight to Remus in order to get down the stairs. Now with the bandages, she was sore  _ and _ stiff, and moving was much harder all wrapped up. 

“Ah, there you are, Moony,” James greeted, standing in the kitchen, hair as determinedly messy as usual, grinning at him beneath his rounded glasses. 

“Wynonna?” Lily asked, standing beside James, her long auburn hair tied up in a tight bun, a decorative bow tying it all together. 

“Lily?” Wynonn asked in turn.

“James!” James chimed in, grinning. 

“Well, now we’ve all introduced ourselves,” Remus said, shaking his head with a soft chuckle. “I promised this woman a drink.”

“A true gentleman,” came James’s reply as he winked at Remus. Again, Remus flushed a soft shade of pink, something that did not escape Wynonna’s notice. 

“What are you doing here?” Lily asked Wynonna a moment later as they all sat down around the table, each with a small glass in hand, a dusty bottle of aged whiskey atop the tattered, dented table between them. “I always thought--well, I’m surprised to see you... _ here _ \--at Headquarters.”

“You’re tellin’ me,” Wynona replied, shooting a wary glance in Remus’s direction. Apart from not being sure if she was  _ supposed _ to tell anyone what had happened to her, she wasn’t sure she wanted to.”

“It’s temporary,” Remus elected to answer for her.

“Is she here with you?” James asked, winking again. 

“What do you mean?”

“ _ You know, _ is she  _ with _ you.”

Remus turned pink again, shaking his head and nearly sputtering out the whiskey he’d just sipped. “Excuse me?”

“Aw, come on, Lu, don’t be shy.” Waggling her brows at James across the table, she added, “Couldn’t keep my hands off him. Had to follow him here to his little hidey-hole.”

Remus groaned and glared at Wynonna beside him. She let out a laugh, quickly wincing as pain ripped anew through her body. 

“Wynonna?” Lily said, her tone full of concern. 

“I’m all right. I just--well, I found myself in a spot of trouble and Lu here helped me out of it. That’s why I’m here.”

“What happened?” Lily asked again. 

Wynonna again looked to Remus before sighing, looking down at the drink in her hand, downing it in one gulp before she met the red-head’s questioning eyes. 

“I was attacked--I’m just here until I recover.”

“Are you all right?”

“Will be, yeah,” Wynonna answered, not at all sure of the words she was speaking. 

“It’s a good thing Remus was there,” Lily added, raising her class in salute to Remus next to her.

“I just did what I was told.”

“Wow, you sure know how to make a girl feel special don’t ya, Lu?”

“I--I didn’t mean--”

“Relax,” Wynonna said, cutting him off. “‘S a joke.”

Across the table, James laughed, shaking his head as he sipped on his drink. “Well whatever happened, I’m glad you’re alright, and it’s good to see you again. I’ve missed you, I think. You were always up for a good time back at school.”

Lily quirked her brow at James’s words. “Is that so?” She asked, side-eyeing him with a warning sort of expression. 

“Er--I, not like that,” James replied hastily and across the table Wynonna laughed once more, Lily joining in with the other woman. 

“Don’t worry, Lils, jocks were never my type.”

“Oh, I know.” Then, poking James in the side. “Besides, I know damn well this one here was obsessed with me back then.”

“Oh, ha ha,” James replied, though he was grinning widely and his words lacked any real hint of annoyance. “Who could blame me? Look at yourself.” 

The pair laughed as James goggled at her, as hopelessly in love with Lily as he had been the day he’d first set eyes on her. It was quite cute really, even if it was sometimes annoying who disgustingly in love they were. 

“Oh, get a room won’t you?” Remus teased, shaking his head at his friends.

“Why don’t you?” James fired back. 

“Yeah, Lu, why don’t we?” Wynonna teased, turning to him, biting her bottom lip at her in a way she remembered doing years ago just to get a rise out of him. 

With a heavy sigh, he looked around the table at his friends and Wynonna in exasperation. “Am I the only bloody adult at this table?”

“Yeah, mate, sorry. But just be glad Sirius isn’t here.”

“Sirius Black?” Wynonna asked. 

“Yeah, that’s the one.”

“Yeah, where is he anyway?” asked Remus.

“A mission I suppose.”

“Or riding that blasted bike of his,” Lily offered. 

“Bike?” Remus and Wynonna both asked simultaneously. 

“Yeah,” James answered, grinning. “Didn’t he mention it to you?”

Remus shook his head.

“Well, he’s got himself a flying motorbike. Lily doesn’t approve,” James said unnecessarily, for Lily had just rolled her eyes so hard, Remus feared they were about to pop out of her head. 

“Really?!” Wynonna asked with almost child-like excitement in her eyes. “Wicked.”

Remus turned to her, an unreadable expression on his face.

“Yeah, it’s wild. I plan to give it a go next time he brings it round.”

“Is that so?” Lily countered again. 

“Aw, come one. One go won’t hurt.”

Lily just rolled her eyes and laughed, Remus, Wynonna, and James joining along. 

“Ooh, shite,” Wynonna groaned as once more her laughter brought on another wave of pain. 

“You alright?” Remus turned to her, concern etching his prematurely lined features. 

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

“You should probably get some rest,” Lily suggested. “I’ll take you up?”

“Sure.”

Wynonna downed the last of her drink again in one go, letting the class fall to the table with a dull thud. Standing, the chair scratched along the kitchen floor as Lily walked over to assist. The two women then proceeded out of the hall, leaving James and Remus alone in the kitchen. 

“So…” James began as he vanished the glasses with a flick of his wand and sent the bottle of whiskey sailing back to the cabinet. “What happened to her? Why is she here?”

Remus eyed the door to the kitchen as though making sure Wynonna was long gone. “She was attacked. Remember the other night when he stopped me after the meeting? He’d said someone had been attacked and he wanted to be sure she was found by the right people. Of course, he didn’t know who it was at the time, but it didn’t take long before I’d recognized her.”

“But why did she need to be found by the right people. There’s attacks every other day on one person or another--” 

“I think Dumbledore was afraid her attackers would come back.”

“Who were they?”

Here Remus paused, glancing behind him once again. He hadn’t failed to notice how she’d avoided explicitly saying what had happened to her and he didn’t feel it was his place to say it either. If it was ever to be important enough that the Order members would need to know, Dumbledore would surely tell them. 

“It doesn’t matter. What matters is I found her. She would’ve died if I hadn’t.”

James smiled softly at his friend, patting him gently on the shoulder. 

“Wynonna Earp though, huh?” James continued, now grinning slyly at him. “Didn’t you sort of have a thing for her in school?”

“What? No.” he replied, a little too fast. 

“Wasn’t she the one always bumping into you in the corridors?”

“And  _ that’s _ what makes you think I had a thing for her?”

“Well, didn’t you?”

“No,” he stated firmly, though he didn’t meet his friend’s eyes. Loathe as Remus was to admit it, him ‘having a thing’ for Wynonna was probably the simplest way to explain it. To him, it was a bit more complicated than that, but it was a succinct enough summary.

James said nothing, but his grin was still firmly in place when Lily returned, having left Wynonna in the room she was staying in. 

“It was good seeing you, Remus. We missed you the other night when Dumbledore sent you off.”

“Duty calls, I suppose.”

She nodded, walking over to him and hugging him before leaving a kiss on his cheek. “We’ll see you soon, I’m sure,” she continued, walking back to James and linking her arm with his. “Good night.”

“Night.”

“Night, mate,” James said before he and Lily turned, walking out of the kitchen and down the hall. Remus followed them out and as soon as the door shut behind them, he heard the telltale  _ pop _ of them disapparating. 

For a moment Remus considered going up to check on Wynonna, but thought better of it. She’d probably had enough of him for one day. In fact, she’d probably had enough of people entirely. If it had been him, he’d most certainly have wanted a moment alone to digest all that had happened to him. When it  _ had _ been him, he’d been far too young to understand it anyway, so he supposed he was lucky in that regard. 

Not quite tired yet, he instead opted to wander into the drawing room down the hall and to the right of the kitchen settling into one of the arm chairs with a book. 

After Lily had left her, Wynonna walked around the small room she was meant to stay in for the next few days--though she had little intention of doing so--and took a look around. It was obvious that the home had been recently vacated by what Wynonna would guess was one of the old, pure-blood wizarding families. Or at least their descendants. The furniture was ornate and had a Victorian quality about them, though Wynonna hadn’t the slightest clue what era they actually came from. 

It was comfortable enough though. If she had to guess, she’d say one of the Order’s family members had once owned the place and, now gone, said member had offered it up to the Order to use as Headquarters. 

A long dresser stood on the opposite side of the bed and atop it were a few old photographs. She didn’t recognize any of the people in them, but a few had a familiar something about them, and she wondered whether this house had belonged to the family of another one of her old classmates. 

If that were the case, she doubted she’d ever be able to figure out which; she hadn’t really talked with too many of her classmates enough to put a name to them. James remembered because she had been as close with Lily, or as close as she was accustomed to being with anyone outside of her sisters. She remembered Sirius for similar reasons, but even without the connection to James, it would’ve been hard to forget Sirius Black. 

Though all of James and his friends had been troublemakers, it had always been Sirius and James to be the face of all their pranks. Wynonna was sure that Remus and their other friend Peter had each had their own role in things, but Sirius always seemed to be the one ready and willing to take credit, to be the face of their little group. And it seemed the other two had been just as willing to let him. 

As she continued her trail around the room, she stopped at the window, peering out into the misty darkness just like the one from the night before. With a lurch in her stomach, she quickly turned away as though she feared one of the wolves would suddenly come crashing through the window to finish the job. 

Hands behind her, braced against the window sill, she leaned against the window and took a deep calming breath. “Get a grip,” she whispered to herself. 

But she couldn’t stop thinking about the previous night. All the images were a blur, a mess of claws and fur and blood, which she was sure had only been her own. One after the other the Seven had sunk their teeth and claws into her, ripping her apart, but only just enough. Just enough to stay alive, just enough to  _ turn _ into one of them. As if the Seven hadn’t already been there for all the worst moments in her life. 

And then she was thinking even farther back in time. They hadn’t even been transformed on the night they had attacked the homestead, but they’d come all the same to kill her father. She had been just as hopelessly out of her depth then too, just a kid, watching those... _ things  _ drag away her father and older sister. 

She’d done the only thing she could think to try to stop them. Not even old enough to start school or have a wand, she’d grabbed her father’s from the table where it had fallen when they crashed into the house and snatched him up. All she could do was point and hope that  _ something _ would happen, that she could make the wand work just enough to force the men to leave. She’d closed her eyes and aimed, and when she opened her eyes, her father lay dead as the two men who’d been carrying him cackled gleefully. 

“God damn it, Wynonna,” she growled to herself, pushing away from the window and heading back toward the bed. Her day was bad enough already, she didn’t need to be thinking about that other shit right now. It was just one more stupid fuck up. One more mistake that she couldn’t erase. 

Unsure of what she wanted to do, she paced back and forth the length of the room. She was sure that Remus was still in the house and probably would be for as long as she was supposed to recover. Whether willingly or not, it seemed he’d gotten landed with nurse duty, but she was determined he wouldn’t have a patient. She decided to wait another hour, maybe two, to be sure that he was asleep and she had to go. She couldn’t stay here, that much she knew for sure. 

When the time came, she looked at her tattered leather jacket and wondered whether it was worth taking with her. Ripped or not, it was her armor and she could always have it mended, right? Decided, she grabbed it up and threw it on, groaning as she looked at all the damage. Those fuckers ruined  _ everything _ . 

Opening the door, Wynonna peeked her head out looking and listening for sounds of movement. She had no idea whether other people were staying in the house or not other than Remus, but she didn’t intend to run into them either way. Deciding the coast was clear, she stepped out and headed downstairs. 

Halfway down, the stairs creaked loudly beneath her and she swore under her breath, stopping and waiting to see if the noise had woken anyone. After a half a minute or so, she continued on, reaching the bottom of the stairwell without further incident. 

“Where are you going?” A voice rang out as she had her hand on the knob of the front door. 

“Merlin’s tits!” Wynonna whisper yelled, turning with a jump toward the sound of the voice, the movement eliciting yet more groans of pain, and she started to wonder whether this pain would be a permanent state from now on. “What the  _ fuck _ are you--wait,” she said, narrowing her eyes at Remus in the darkness, taking in his appearance. “Why do you look like a walking sweater?”

Remus looked down at his own attire. He was wearing what he used for pajamas whenever he stayed at headquarters, a pair of long pants, and a henley sweater. Even in England, cold as it was, Wynonna thought it was a bit overkill for bedtime wear. 

“Never mind that, where are you going?” he asked.

“Where d’you think? I’m leaving.”

“You can’t leave.”

“Watch me,” she bit back, feeling almost like it was all those years ago when Remus, as Prefect, would try to tell her what she could and couldn’t do. It hadn’t worked then, and it wasn’t going to work now. And she reached for the door again. 

Remus sighed, stepping up to her and gently grabbing her wrist. “You’re too hurt to travel. Look at you, you can barely even walk properly,” he said, gesturing to her. 

Indeed, she stood there, half hunched over, her free arm pressed tightly against her abdomen where the preponderance of the pain centered. 

“I’ll manage.”

“Please,” he insisted, “just give it a few days, let yourself heal and then I promise you I won’t stop you leaving.” He had no reason to. She wasn’t part of the Order and as far as he knew, Dumbledore had no intention of recruiting her. She was  _ allowed _ to leave whenever she wanted; Remus just thought it best for her to stay until she was healed well enough to go at it alone. 

“As if you could,” she responded defiantly, snarling at him. 

Remus huffed. “Really?”

Wynonna harrumphed and Remus rolled his eyes, taking his hand off her wrist. She, too, let go of the door knob. 

“Fine,” she conceded. “But seriously,  _ what _ are you wearing? It’s the middle of summer. Is that really what you always sleep in?”

“No, normally I sleep in the nude,” he deadpanned. 

Wynonna blinked, taken aback by his quick, albeit sarcastic, reply. She recovered just as quickly. “Well, now  _ that _ I’d like to see.” And indeed, she couldn’t help but picture it at the moment and wondered how reality compared. Purley for curiosity’s sake, of course. 

“Come on,” Remus said, turning back to the stairs, reaching to pull her along with him.

“Right now?” She asked, putting on a tone of surprise and excitement.

“What?” Then it dawned on him what she was implying. “No,” he said rolling his eyes. 

“Tease,” she returned with a grin.

Remus turned so fast to glare at her, he cricked his neck, a look of shock and outrage on his face. Remembering now the kinds of things she used to do while they were at Hogwarts together he thought it was rather rich her calling him a tease. And he’d been about to tell her as much before she let out a loud snort of laughter, causing another wince and groan of pain. 

“Shit, Lu, don’t make me laugh,” she wheezed through her grin, clutching at her ribs. 

“Sorry,” he replied, grinning too as they continued up the stairs. 

Stopping at her door, he let go over her and she stepped inside. She paused in the doorway to look at him, but couldn’t face looking him in the eyes, instead staring at her feet. 

“Thanks,” she whispered quietly, “for...well, you know.”

“It really wasn’t a problem.”

“Em hm,” she muttered, raising her gaze to his. Again with those fucking blue eyes. What the  _ fuck _ . She couldn’t remember a single other person ever looking at her as softly as he did. Is that how he looked at everyone, she wondered, and found herself quietly hoping the answer was no. 

“I’m down at the end of the hall. Bathroom’s there on the left,” he said, pointing to each place in turn. “If you need anything--”

“Right. Well, g’night.”

“Night,” he said, then turned and headed to the room at the end of the hall he used whenever he stayed at Headquarters. 


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Remus assists Wynonna in her recovery, Dumbledore send the pair on a mission for the Order.

The next few days followed similarly to the first with Remus redressing Wynonna's wounds as necessary so she could continue to heal. Wynonna wasn't fond of being unable to properly care for herself, much less a man she really didn't know all that well. Though as she had little else for company, only other members of the Order coming and going, she'd had plenty of time to look back on their time together at school, remembering more and more of him each day as well as seeing bits of him now that she'd only caught glimpses of during their school days.

Not every memory of Remus had been quite as tumultuous as their first meeting. In fact, she remembered, with as close to fondness as she could, that they had shared more than a few memorable moments. With the troubles of both the war and her own life, such innocent, adolescent memories had been driven forcefully from her consciousness, but now with time for nothing else but thinking she remembered a lot.

She supposed one could say that after their shared detention, both of them had been unable to avoid noticing the other. Smirking to herself one day, thinking back on those times, she remembered having a bit of fun with him. Or rather, in a manner of speaking, having her own fun at his expense. Boys at that age were so easy to get a rise out of, and as unassuming as he might have seemed back then, he wasn't too different than the rest of him. Similar things made him tick, and Wynonna was a self-proclaimed expect at doing just those things. And with Remus, it had become something of a sport for her in a way it hadn't with the other boys.

Perhaps it was the way their first meeting had gone and how he had made her blood boil with his presumptions, but she just couldn't help trying to push his buttons any chance she had. With other boys, doing similar things wasn't half as much fun. They were too easy. Remus seemed to be determined not to let her teasing affect him out of spite for her, which led to such amusing results. For all his efforts, she knew he was attracted to her, which gave her power over him and she enjoyed it immensely. If only to annoy him for having annoyed her just that once. Maybe the punishment didn't fit the crime, but Wynonna hadn't cared. That just made it even more fun.

Sometimes she wondered how much of their school days Remus remembered but at the end of the day it didn't really matter. Either way, it was fun for her to reminisce on. It was far better than facing the reality that lay ahead of her at least. Imaging Remus Lupin's face as she'd sucked on the end of a sugar quill, a sultry look in her eyes, was decidedly better than wondering how much it was going to hurt to transform into a werewolf.

Each day though she was progressing, healing more and more. By the week's end, she was able to walk around comfortably on her own. She had considered a few more times about making a break for it, but in the end she decided she wasn't quite ready yet to face her sister. As kind and good as Waverly was, and as much as she knew deep down that she would still welcome her with open arms, even the thought of anything else broke Wynonna's heart. She wasn't ready to take that leap just yet.

Though she could tell she was healing well, Remus still insisted it was too early for any floo travel or apparition. Otherwise, even Remus said she was healing just fine and should be pain free in another week's time.

She'd snorted into her early evening whiskey when he'd told her. "Just in time to have to be in pain all over again in three weeks, right?"

"It won't be as bad as the attack...but no, it won't be pleasant," he admitted.

Wynonna heaved a sigh before she swallowed back the rest of the fire whiskey in her hand. "Think you could lie to me just the once, yeah?"

Remus smiled softly and shook his head. "I wish I could tell you something else, I really do. I just think it's better for you to know the truth."

"Yeah, yeah, bloody angel of a man you are," she said, pouring more of that amber liquid into her glass just as the door banged open. A man with long black hair came crashing into the room, clutching at his stomach.

Immediately Remus jumped up and ran to the man he recognized immediately as Sirius and helped him to the table. Wynonna sat as though paralyzed wondering what the hell was going on and feeling utterly useless as she stared at the two men.

"Sirius! Sirius, are you all right? What happened?" Remus asked, a note of panic in his voice as he slumped against the table with a groan.

"I'm all right, I'm all right," Sirius groaned, still clutching at his stomach, wincing in pain as he nodded his head. "They got me with something wicked though, I'll tell you that. Merlin's saggy-" He began, cutting off as pain ripped through his body again, eliciting a groan. "Bring me that-whatever it is," he managed to choke out, pointing to a cabinet a few feet away where they kept all their emergency supplies, antidote, and the like.

Remus did as he was asked at once, taking his wand out and wordlessly summoning the antidote. Again with his wand, he uncorked the vial and handed it to Sirius who downed the entire contents of the bottle in one swallow. Remus rolled his eyes thinking that someone would now have to make more of that. Usually a drop or two would do the trick just fine without wasting a whole bottle.

"Better?" Remus asked, his voice a touch clipped, but still with that familiar note of work.

"Yes, mother, I'm fine," came Sirius's sarcastic reply, earning an eye roll from Remus. Remus.

Yes, Remus thought, he seems just fine.

Letting out a bark-like laugh, he slid off the table top and into a chair, finally noticing Wynonna sitting there across from him still holding both bottle and glass of whiskey in her hand.

"Well, hello," he greeted with a cheeky wink.

Wynonna raised one manicured brow at him, almost laughing as memories of this man came flitting through her subconscious. "Sirius Black," she greeted, shaking her head with a smile.

Remus, watching the two as he sat back down scowled somewhat as a smile so easily sprouted when she saw the other man.

"The one and only, love," he replied coolly, sinking more comfortably in his chair. "Mind if I have a bit of that?"

Shrugging, Wynonna took out her wand and produced another empty glass, filled it, and slid it across the table toward him.

"So this is what you've been up to, huh, Remus? Been holed up in here with your old flame?"

"What?" Remus asked, turning his head comically fast toward Sirius, a look of pure and utter confusion on his features, despite this being the second time in a few days someone had made a similar comment. Wynonna across the table smirked into her cup of whiskey, the expression hidden from Remus's eyes. It was like being back at Hogwarts, teasing him all over again and watching him squirm.

"Oh, come on, Moony, you don't remember?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," he insisted, the touch of pink coloring his cheek betraying him because that wasn't true, of course. He knew exactly what he was talking about. Just a few days ago he hadn't remembered. With everything going on in the war and his own personal life, it had been so easy to forget those simpler times, but in the past week, with Wynonna's constant presence, his memories had come flooding back.

Sirius smirked and let another barking laugh. "Sure you do," he said, winking at him before taking a sip of his drink.

Remus turned then to look at Wynonna and this time he spotted her smirk just as it slipped away when she noticed him looking. Narrowing his eyes at her suspiciously he opened his mouth to speak before the door opened once more. Dumbledore and McGonagall both entered, quietly speaking to one another, breaking off at the sight of the three of them.

All traces of laughter slipped away from the room as quick as they'd come at the sight of the two of them. Dumbledore, perceptive as always noticed at once. "No need to look so grave," he said with a casual wave of his hand. "We just stopped in for a moment, a pick-me-up, if you will," he finished, taking a seat at the table with the three of them. He gestured for Minerva to do the same. With a curt shake of her head, she declined and Dumbledore shrugged, resigned.

"Suit yourself," he said to her, turning his attention to Wynonna. "Ah, fire whiskey. Would you believe I haven't had any of this in decades?" He asked, eyeing it wistfully.

"Course I do, you tight arse," Wynonna answered, grinning at him, dimples in her cheeks visible for the first time Remus could remember since their school days. Again there was a feeling of disappointment that he'd yet to elicit a smile like that from her, though it wasn't such a bitter feeling as it had been when Sirius had been on the receiving end.

"Eloquent as always, Ms. Earp," Minerva said from the corner with her amrs crossed and lips thin, just as they had been in Wynonna's presence when she'd been Minerva's student.

"Some things never change, do they?" Wynonna asked cheekily, holding her glass up toward the elder woman with a pointed look at her familiar posture. McGonagall's only response was a curt nod.

"Do you mind?" Dumbledore broke in, pointing to the bottle with one long, aged finger.

"Go for it, Albus," she answered, passing him the bottle.

With a simple wave, he conjured up a glass from thin air and easily transferred the liquid from the bottle to his glass with another wave of his wand.

"Care for a glass, Remus?  
Remus hesitated; he didn't like drinking much. He drank on occasions and very little, but he didn't like being drunk and usually avoided hard liquor. The other night with James, Lily and Wynonna had been a rare exception.

"Oh, come on, Lu, have a drink with me."

"Yeah, Lu, Sirius chimed in from beside him with a raise of his brow, mocking Wynonna's nickname for him.

"A small glass then," he relented, allowing Dumbledore to fill one for him.

"Cheers," Dumbledore said, holding his glass out. In turn, they all clinked their glasses together and when Remus's eyes met Wynonna's, she locked eyes with him and shot him a wink that had his cheeks warming at the sight. How appropriate was it that the last time he could remember them feeling that way was when she'd looked at him like that in school.

For a short while, the five of them sat in the kitchen-even Minerva finally took a seat-having a drink together, chatting and catching each other up on what they'd all been been up to and how their individual efforts were going before Dumbledore finally stood and bid them all a good evening. Once more, however, before he left, he turned to Remus, asking him for a word.

"Wynonna, if you wouldn't mind joining us," he said with an inclination of his head.

Wynonna looked to Remus as if looking for guidance before she nodded, following the two of them into an empty room down the hall from the kitchen.

"Is something wrong?" Remus asked.

"No, no. Nothing like that." Dumbledore paused for a moment before taking a breath and nodding. "I have another assignment for you. There are rumors of some werewolf activity going on in the woods just outside of Longshire. They're not causing any problems yes, but I was hoping to have one of our own nearby in case things take a turn for the worse."

"You just want me to be in the area? To what? Keep an eye on things?"

"If you wouldn't mind, yes. There's no need to engage just yet, but I was hoping you might keep an eye on the situation for now. From a safe distance, of course," he added with a nod. "If Death Eaters show up recruiting, I need to know at once."

"Sure, absolutely. I can pack up now," Remus replied.

"Excellent news, very good." Pausing once more, he cleared his throat and turned to Wynonna. "I wondered, Ms. Earp, if you'd like to accompany him. The more eyes the better, though, of course, you are under no obligation."

Remus looked curiously between the pair of them, wondering why Dumbledore would ask someone not officially in the Order to assist on a mission. Then again, she was the only other werewolf their side had access to.

"Er-what? A stakeout?"

"Very succinctly put."

"Er-" Again she looked at Remus who simply shrugged. That was her decision to make. "All right, yeah. Why not. 'S not like I've got anything better to do." Or as if she could go home. She still wasn't ready to face her family given recent changes in her life.

"You don't mind, do you, Remus?"

Without thinking, Remus shook his head, no. And even if he had minded, he would've never said so; that would be rude. But as it was, he didn't mind in the least, even if he wasn't sure what to make of it all. He'd never been on a mission with someone else for obvious reasons and wondered what it might be like to finally have some company, even as questionable a company as Wynonna's.

"Wonderful, yes. Excellent!" Dumbledore clapped his hands in finality. "That's it decided then. You two can rest one more night and head out in the morning, I think. After you've gathered the necessities."

"Er-yeah. Of course."

"Thank you," Dumbledore said with a nod, turning to thank Wynonna as well. "Then I'll be off. Good evening." Then, Dumbledore turned back out into the hall and out of sight.

Watching Dumbledore leave, Remus then turned to Wynonna. "Er-well, everything we need will be at my place. I know I said you shouldn't travel magically yet, but do you think you're able to? "

"Yeah, I feel fine. I think I can apparate."

"Okay, great. That'll be easiest. Let me just grab my jacket."

Wynonna nodded, following him back into the kitchen. Remus walked to a small closet and Sirius grinned at her.

"Welcome to the club."

"Oh, no. No, I'm not joining anything. I just agreed to help out. It's a one time thing," she insisted.

Sirius just nodded, his grin etched as if permanently on his face, sipping his drink in silence. Remus returned to her side after a moment.

"Here," he said, nudging her with a small bundle in his hands.

"Huh?" She mumbled, looking down at the offering. It took her a moment to realize what it was. "Woah, did you fix this?"

"I did my best," he answered. It was her jacket, magically repaired. She wasn't great at spells like that and had decided she'd wait until she met up with Waverly again and have her do it. It never crossed her mind that Remus might be able to, nor that he'd bother. "I'm not great at tailoring spells, but I think I did all right."

"It looks great," she replied, examining his work. It was a little more stiff than it used to be but the rips were all gone. She slipped it on, feeling as though she were finally back in her own skin. Finally she had her armor back.

"How do I look?" She asked, flexing in her jacket, turning this way and that, showing it off. Remus's cheeks turned a delicate shade of pink, and standing not even a foot from him, she couldn't help but notice and she grinned widely, genuinely, those illusive dimples showing up again, this time for him.

"Good as new," he replied, trying to remain nonchalant. Though that hardly did justice to how she looked. Just as he'd thought when he was younger, she was stunning. The jacket fit her like a glove, not just in size and shape but in personality. She wore it like it had been made just for her. It seemed to brighten her somehow, and he marveled at the effect. Her blue eyes seemed to shine even brighter, so much so he could barely take his eyes off her.

"Yeah, right," she snorted. "I know I still look like a bloody train wreck."

"No, you don't," Remus replied automatically, blushing once more.

Wynonna, too, blushed under the intensity of his gaze. She hadn't been expecting that answer, nor for it to ring so true in the look in his eyes. Quickly, she turned her eyes down and away from him as though worried what he might see in her eyes if he looked too long.

Sirius then cleared his throat then and Wynonna nearly jumped. "Well," he said, standing with a wide grin on his face, "good to see you again, Earp." Walking to her, he held out his hand for her to shake.

"I'd say the same, but…" she trailed off, pulling herself back together, returning his grin as though he hadn't interrupted whatever it was that had transpired between her and Remus in those short seconds.

Sirius let out another bark-like laugher. "Take care of Lu will you?"

"Of, of course," Wynonna replied, bowing in an exaggerated motion. "I'll take good care of him."

"Oh, I bet you will." Sirius winked again and then left, walking out of the kitchen and own the hall.

"Ready?" Remus asked after a quiet moment.

"Yeah."

Grabbing her hand tightly, Remus turned on the spot and disapparated, appearing in his own home not a second later.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Remus and Wynonna head to Remus's flat to gather supplies and rest before their mission.

Wynonna opened her eyes, shaking her head to clear the odd sensation of apparition. "We'll stay here for tonight and head out in the morning." Remus paused then, looking at her and gesturing sheepishly to his ridiculously small one bedroom flat. "It's-it's not much."

She almost laughed at the idea of him caring what she thought of his place. It was small and rather untidy, clean, but with a noticeable sense of disorder. Stacks of books littered his kitchen table, the end table near a small loveseat, as well as the coffee table in front of it. A wide bookshelf, also filled with books, took up most of the back wall, taking the place of where one might put a TV in a Muggle dwelling.

Only a small counter separated the kitchen from the living space, and the kitchen table sat just to the left of the entry door. From the door, Wynonna could spot two closed doors, each leading to the bathroom and presumably his bedroom. Aged brick lined all four walls, and an admittedly ugly, light green linoleum lined the kitchen floor.

"Sorry, it's a bit messy," he said quietly, watching her as her eyes roamed across his flat.

"Yeah, it's a right pigsty. You call this a bachelor pad?"

"Hardly," he answered. Wynonna stared at him, a brow raised as he shuffled around, straightening the nearest pile of books wondering if he had realized that was a joke, or if he was even paying attention at all. He seemed suddenly distracted.

Sighing, she shrugged out of her jacket and looked around for a coat rack of some sort. As she turned around, Remus was beside her again.

"I can take that."

"Oh, thanks," she said, handing it over to him.

"Er-well, kitchen's here, obviously," he said, pointing quite unnecessarily. Then walking further into the loft, he pointed to the first door on the right. "Bathroom here, and-" continuing on, he opened the second door, revealing, as Wynonna had suspected, his bedroom.

"Let me guess, this is where all the magic happens," she teased as she stepped into the doorway, brushing against him as she slipped past him into the room, inexplicably eager to see what his bedroom looked like, what secrets about him it may hold.

"Oh, yeah, all the time," he replied dryly, and she grinned, now beginning to recognize his sense of humor. She'd forgotten how dry and sarcastic he'd been at school. "It's like a revolving door, really."

Wynonna let out a low wolf-whistle. "Wow, Lu, didn't realize you were such a ladies man."

"That's me," he said just as dryly. "Anyway, you can sleep in here."

"Is that an invitation?" She asked, a flirtatious lilt to her tone.

Remus hummed as though considering before he rolled his eyes and shook his head. "You wish."

"Kinda," she answered with a shrug, her back to him, and she wondered whether she'd made him blush again though she didn't turn to check.

He had in fact blushed and was glad she wasn't looking to see. It was stupid how easily she made him do that even when he knew she was only joking. He felt like he was in school all over again, her teasing him relentlessly. Even now though, he'd be lying if he said he didn't enjoy their banter. It was a nice change of pace to how his life had been going in the years since leaving school.

"I'll be out on the couch if you need anything."

Wynonna whipped around. "Wait, you were serious? No, no, I'm not stealing your bed."

"You're not stealing it, I'm letting you borrow it."

"No, I mean it, I'll be fine on the couch."

"Don't be ridiculous, we can't both fit on the couch," he replied, concealing a grin as he watched her frustration grow.

"I'm fine on the couch," she insisted, heading back out of his room, but Remus stepped in front of the doorway, blocking her path.

"I'm not arguing with you about it, Earp."

"Oh, come on, don't make me hit you, Lu."

Remus just raised one brow, so high it disappeared beneath the fringe of his shaggy hair as though daring her to try.

"Why do you always have to be so difficult?"

"Oh, please, don't pretend you don't like it," she fired back.

"Well, I'll be sleeping on the couch, so unless you fancy cuddling, the bed's your only option."

Wynonna huffed, "fine," and turned quickly once more, her mane of long, dark brown hair swatting him in the fact as she went, the smell of it assaulting his senses and he noted a familiar smell of coconut. Whatever she'd used on her hair in school, it seemed she still used it now. As he smelled it, he remembered vividly her hair having the same smell then.

"Right, good. So if you need me-"

"Yeah, yeah, I know where to find you."

"Good night,"

Wynonna let out another huff and waved her wand at the door, shutting it in his face. Remus stood on the other side of it with a satisfied grin on his face.

As she had back at Headquarters, Wynonna walked around the room, examining everything in sight, though admittedly, Remus's room was considerably smaller and this was a far quicker task. To the left of the door stood a long dresser, a few drawers half open with clothes spilling out. On top were a number of odd items Wynonna could remember having seen in books but didn't remember their purpose. She assumed they were dark detectors of some kind, and recognized one as a sneakoscope. For a moment she eyed it warily, half-expecting it to start whirring as she poked indiscriminately around his bedroom.

Next to his bed was a small, light brown, and thoroughly secondhand night stand. Near the lamp was a small framed photo of four young boys she recognized to be Remus himself and his friends from school. She smiled to herself as she looked at it and found it endearing how he kept the photo so close to him.

As she walked around the room, she let her hand idly trail over everything she looked at, letting her hand drag over the dressings of his bed as she walked to the other side of the room. Yet another bookshelf stood at the foot of the bed, the shelves lined with books and intermittently with a photograph here or there. She stopped, looking at one containing three people: a kind looking man with Remus's kind eyes, and a short, round-faced woman with blue eyes the exact shade as Remus's and she surmised these must be his parents. The third person in the photo was a very young Remus, sitting in front of a small cake with the number five on it.

Wynonna picked up the photograph and again a small smile stretched upon her lips as she examined it closer. He was smiling and laughing along with his parents before he blew out the candles atop the cake. As the small Remus waved at the camera, she noted his tiny arm to be lined with odd marks. At first, she thought it was due to the quality of the photo and it's age, but as she looked closer, she realized they were scars.

Curiosity piqued, and a strange sad ache in her heart, she wondered if those were werewolf bites and scratches. Had he been that young when he'd been attacked? It seemed unbelievable to her even though she, more than anyone else but Remus himself perhaps, knew that werewolves could be vicious and attacking small children was a specialty of many. He just seemed so...soft, so human, that it struck her as odd that he could have possibly retained such humanity after living this way for that long a time.

Putting the photo down, she decided that couldn't possibly be what those marks were, and she put them out of her mind as she turned to the bed. She sat down on the edge, undressing into just her t-shirt and undergarments before slipping comfortably into his bed.

It was comfortable enough considering Wynonna could tell it was quite old. It creaked and groaned with every movement, revealing its age. As she settled in, laying her head down, a familiar smell hit her. It was an earthy sort of smell, a refreshing scent that she knew she had smelled before. Only the last time she had smelled it, she hadn't realized the source of it. Now, knowing that he slept here, leaving his scent behind, she understood it had been him, and as tiredness overcame her, she drifted off to sleep, dreaming of that other time she'd been close enough to smell it.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While at Remus's flat, Wynonna recalls a memory from her school days featuring Remus.

"You going to the match, Wynonna?" A voice called out from behind her and she turned, unsurprised to find a thin, auburn haired girl walking up to her. Lily Evans was about the only person at Hogwarts she could consider a friend and the only person who would so willingly engage in small talk with her so she'd known in an instant it must have been her.

Wynonna made a show of having to really think about it before she laughed and shook her head. "No, I don't think so." She winced as though in pain at the mere thought of sitting through a Quidditch match. "Not really my cuppa, you know?"

Lily hummed softly and nodded. "Yeah, I figured as much."

"I take it you're going?"

"I have to don't I?"

For a moment, Wynonna looked confused, but with a pointed, almost disappointed look from Lily it dawned on her. "Oh yeah, wouldn't want to let the boyfriend down, would you?" She had almost forgotten that Lily had started dating James Potter this term.

A tinge of pink blossomed on Lily's cheek at the word boyfriend-it was all very new to her, having a proper boyfriend. She'd had things close to it before, but none as serious as she'd become with James.

"No, and besides, I like Quidditch…" She trailed off and shrugged. "Well, I like going to the matches anyway. That's always fun, everyone all hyped up, having a good time."

Wynonna shot her a skeptical look. "I could think of about a million better things to do," she replied dryly.

"I don't doubt it." She walked for a moment beside her in silence before another thought came to her. She turned, eyes alight. "I'm sure there'll be an after party; there always is. Will you come with me?"

"You've got your boyfriend to go with you. I'm sure he'll be more than happy to celebrate after."

"Yeah, well, that's not the same thing as having you come with me too, is it?" Lily said with a pointed look, almost scolding her. Boyfriends were nice, sure, but there they hardly held a candle to the flame of friendship between two girls. "Just because James and I are together doesn't mean I haven't got time for friends anymore, you know?"

"Yeah, yeah, I know."

"So, how about it then? You'll come?"

Wynonna hummed again in thought. "To a party? With booze? It's like you don't even know me at all," she joked. Any opportunity for something to drink and someone to snog was an one she couldn't or wouldn't pass up.

Lily scowled in a somewhat disapproving manner at her mention of alcohol, but she wasn't her mother. She could do as she pleased. Besides, if she came, Lily could at least keep an eye on her and make sure she didn't do anything she'd regret.

"Great! I'll come find you after the match."

"Why not," she called after Lily as she turned into the great hall for breakfast before the match started early that afternoon. Wynonna followed behind then wandered off to her own table where she grabbed a muffin and some toast. She didn't like sitting at the house tables for breakfast when it could be avoided. She much preferred eating alone and a lovely little spot by the lake, hidden from view from the castle where she liked to smoke was calling her name.

As she sat under a tree by the lake, she watched, cigarette in hand, as the many students wandered down to the Quidditch pitch. Even from a distance it was easy to spot her friend Lily with James, accompanied by his friends, one of which looked her way, eyes locked on her as he walked. She smirked to herself as she stared back before raising one hand in his direction as though about to wave, before turning her hand and raising her middle finger up at him.

"Gee, Moony, she really doesn't like you, does she?"

"Hm, what gave it away?"

James, Sirius, and Peter all laughed and Lily looked over at Wynonna, pensive.

"Seriously, Moony, what the hell did you do to piss off a Hufflepuff so bad?"

"Your guess is as good as mine," Remus lied. Of course he was certain her anger toward him all stemmed from their shared detention a month ago, an anger of which Remus thought she was whole-heartedly entitled to. He had been rather rude on that occasion, but even he felt his punishment didn't quite fit the crime.

She'd taken to irritating him every chance she got since that day. Some days that meant giving him the finger any time he looked her way, others it meant bumping into him purposefully in the corridors on the way to class, and others till, when he was sure she was feeling particularly vindictive, it meant teasing him mercilessly. Not the sort of teasing where she made fun of him though some days he wished that had been the case.

Instead, just last week she'd been deliberately and suggestively sucking on the end of a sugar quill, eyes locked on him from across the room. On that occasion Sirius had pointed out to him that he had better start paying attention to the lecture before he had an embarrassing problem on his hands and would have to excuse himself, which he hated to admit he'd been very close to suffering. And she bloody well knew it; he was sure of it.

"Wynonna, you mean?" Lily asked politely.

Remus nodded as the five of them continued down to the pitch. When they reached the dressing rooms, James gave Lily a parting kiss and disappeared into the locker rooms to prepare for the match. The other four began their climb into the rafters to watch the match.

"I invited her tonight for the after party…" she said, almost off-hand, though she was watching Remus curiously.

"Brilliant," he stated dryly, his tone betraying none of the many thoughts now swimming in his head.

"She's not so bad, you know?"

"I didn't say she was."

"She's just-"

"Lily, it's fine," Remus cut in, "I don't have a problem with her."

"Are you sure? I could always tell her it's Gryffindor's only."

"Don't be silly," he said, shaking his head as the four of them took their seats. "I really don't have a problem with her. It's her who's got the problem with me, but if she doesn't mind my being there, I don't mind hers."

"Oh, okay," Lily said, finally turning her inquisitive gaze away from him and turning to eagerly await the start of the match. Only a few minutes later the commentary began and the players took to the pitch and the match began.

When the match ended, the sun had already begun to creep toward the tops of the trees, casting a deep red glow across the grounds as students began to file out of the stands and back toward the castle. Wynonna filed in with the masses, pushing through the crowd until she spotted Lily. This time she hung back from James and his friends, no doubt wishing to avoid their rowdiness for the moment. The remainder of her night would be spent with them raucously celebrating their win; she could do with a few moments of peace.

"How'd it go then?" Wynonna asked with noticeable indifference as she came up behind her.

Lily smiled as she looked at her out of the corner of her eye and chuckled. "Gryffindor won, of course," she said brimming with pride. Whether that was for the team as a whole or for James in particular was unknown.

"Lovely. You're all going to be insufferable, aren't you?" Wynonna belonged to Hufflepuff, the team Gryffindor had just beaten so she was sure to hear some teasing comments about her team's loss. The joke was on them though, she didn't give a rat's arse about Quidditch.

"Oh, absolutely," Lily replied as the two headed toward the Gryffindor common room. Professors would have new students think that such intersectional gatherings between students of different houses were rare, but they were actually quite common. So long as one member of the house accompanied you, you could be let into any common room. Such things, however, were officially frowned upon.

"As long as there's fire-whiskey," Wynonna commented in the same, disinterested dry tone as she followed the red-haired girl into the hallway hidden behind the portrait that guarded the entrance to Gryffindor tower.

As they stepped in, she could hear the echoing cheers of victory coming from the common room. She'd been in the Gryffindor common room only a handful of other times for parties such as this, and it looked more or less like her own. The colors were different, sporting the scarlet and gold of Gryffindor rather than the black and yellow of Hufflepuff. It was just as cozy looking though, full of excited students, not just from Gryffindor, but from the other three houses as well. Or at least Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff. Gryffindor and Slytherin had never quite let go of their millennia old feud started by the original founders.

"Look what the cat dragged in!" James Potter shouted from the depths of a large group of people huddled around him, each taking their turn to congratulate him on a match well played.

"Oi, how can you even carry that big head of yours around right now?" She shouted back and Lily pulled her farther into the fold.

James and her had become, if not friends, friendly since Lily had started dating him. Being Lily's boyfriend, it was natural that she brought him around often enough, and as Lily was her only real friend, it was a small price to pay. At least now he wasn't as annoying as he used to be. In the last year, he'd matured quite a lot. Only when they studied did Lily really bring him along—well, Lily studied, Wynonna sat with the two for company, distracting each of them in turn. In the end, she'd grown used to his company.

"Oh, I'm getting on," he replied with a wink. "Come on over and have a drink, yeah?" He asked, gesturing with his head toward the group of people, his closest friends tucked in the middle.

There was Sirius, Peter, and as she knew there would be, Remus, the only one sitting with full drink in his lap; he hadn't yet taken even one sip. This struck her as odd as she could tell by looking at Peter, he'd likely filled his glass at least once more already. Sirius seemed to be nursing his one drink for show rather than enjoyment.

"Well," she began, feigning a coy shrug, "be rude to refuse a drink from the victors, wouldn't it?" As if Wynonna needed an excuse to accept such a tempting offer of drink.

"Bet your arse it would," replied Sirius, sitting, as usual, to James's right side, the closest person to him. It was a symbol of their closeness, his literal right-hand man, his partner in crime. "You know Peter and Remus, right?" Black asked, and at Remus's name, his lips curled into a knowing smirk as he gestured to each of them in turn.

She did, of course. Apart from her explosive introduction to Remus, she had seen both of them toting along after James and Sirius for the past six years. Wynonna didn't know much about Peter, nor Remus for that matter if she really thought about it, but she had no interest in Peter. Remus on the other hand…well, after that detention, she'd found it hard not to notice him in the hallways.

Every time she saw him, she had quite a fun time causing him as much grief as possible at the slightest opportunity. While none were as exciting as their first, each meeting since had been just as interesting. When she'd started, she had been trying to piss him off, trying to get a rise out of him and see what made him tick, see what precise actions could chip away at his calm façade. It wasn't long before she realized there was another way to get under his skin.

Wynonna was intimately familiar with how the minds of adolescent boys worked and she had noticed the way he seemed unable to stop himself from looking her way every time their paths crossed. Contrary to her expectations, he never looked at her with hatred or loathing or anything close. Most days, infuriatingly so, his expression was unreadable. He looked at her like she was an odd painting in an art show of which he was trying to decipher the meaning.

One day though, she'd caught him looking not at her face and she knew she had him then. Boys were so simple that way. On that occasion, she'd canted her head to the side at him from across the room, sticking her chest out as though to offer him a more advantageous view, and when he'd looked up to her face again, she'd shot him a questioning look. His reaction had been priceless, eyes going wide with surprise for the tiniest of seconds, before he looked away in shame for being caught, cheeks turning a light pink.

She'd known she had him then. Indifference she could do nothing about, but attraction, she could work with. Attraction she could manipulate to amusing effect. And she wasted no opportunity to do so. It was almost cute how hard he tried to not react to her. But he was just a boy like any other and she was ruthless.

"Oh, yeah, Lu and I go way back, don't we?" She said, winking at him as she took her seat opposite the four boys as James handed her a drink.

"That's right, you two are buddies, aren't you?" Sirius added cheekily, remembering how just hours ago she'd given Remus the finger from across the grounds. "Saw you waving at him earlier."

Wynonna smirked, glad to have further audience for her antics, if only because their mention made Remus uncomfortable. She noticed out of the corner of his eye, a scowl form. Though she had to admit, even as he was being teased openly, he appeared calm. She noticed only because she'd become so accustomed to his various expressions over the past few weeks.

"I was just asking him earlier what he'd done to piss off a Hufflepuff of all people," he commented, sitting back and enjoying the glare he earned from Remus. Hufflepuffs were generally known for their calm and cool demeanor, two things of which Wynonna knew nothing.

All the others laughed good-naturedly at Remus's expense and he smiled politely, able to poke a bit of fun at himself along with the rest of them. And it wasn't the first time it had come up in conversation; he'd expected, with Wynonna's impending presence, that it would come up tonight as well. At the beginning he'd been embarrassed, irritated, now he'd come to accept his fate. He couldn't very well help that he was attracted to her nor what effect she had on him. She was a beautiful girl when she wasn't glaring at him (and even then, despite himself, he still found her beautiful). Though he did perhaps wish they wouldn't tease him about it in front of her.

"Oh, come on, Lu," Sirius said, grinning wider still. "It's all in good fun."

"I didn't say a thing, did I?" Remus responded simply, smiling a tight-lipped smile.

"Give him a rest, will you?" Lily chimed in finally, holding back her own giggles for Remus's sake. "We're celebrating, remember?" She took a drink for herself and gave Wynonna a pointed look that said all too clearly to behave. As usual, she had zero intention of doing so.

Two hours later, her words had become a mess of intelligible syllables only herself could have any hope of understanding. Self-aware enough to know when it was time to go, she began to stand, slurring her goodbyes as she clung to Lily who had graciously helped her to her feet.

"Are you all right?"

"Couldn' be better," she mumbled, placing a hand on Lily's shoulder to steady herself.

"Er—can you even make it back to your dormitory?"

"Sure I can," she muttered, sounding offended. This wasn't her first rodeo; she was no stranger to stumbling back drunk to her bed.

"Well, I'd still feel better if someone walked you there," Lily replied, eying her warily as though expecting her to topple over, passed out at any moment. She had seen Wynonna drunk before and probably more drunk than she was right then, but she worried all the same.

"Lu will do it," Peter volunteered, shooting conspiratorial glances at James and Sirius who grinned in approval at his brilliance.

In unison, everyone, including Wynonna, turned their eyes to rest on Remus who felt his face warming in response to their stares. Ever the gentleman, however reluctantly, he agreed.

"Bloody angel of a man you are," she mumbled as he stepped toward her and she shifted her weight away from Lily. She swayed dangerously on the spot, holding her hands out to balance herself, and once steady, looked expectantly at Remus.

"You're going to have to show me the way," he said curtly, walking her toward the hall and leading her through the portrait hole hiding the entrance to the common room.

"Just follow my lead, Lu, I won't lead you astray."

Remus sighed, wondering what he had gotten himself into. Or rather what Peter and his friends had gotten him into. He'd have to get them back for this one soon.

"Do you always drink this much?" He asked as she staggered in front of him, heading in the direction of the grand marble staircases that led to the various corners of the castle.

"Not always," she said, shrugging, teetering dangerously at the top of the flight of stairs. It would have been better if she'd been in Ravenclaw; their common room was the closest to Gryffindor and was far easier to get to. There were half as many steps to their common room. Hufflepuff's he knew was somewhere beneath the castle, just about as far from Gryffindor as could be. The only dormitory farther away was Slytherin's in the dungeons.

Remus hummed quietly, keeping a careful eye on her to make sure she didn't fall over and topple down the staircase. As she swayed again, her hand leaving the railing for a moment, he stepped up to grab her from behind to guide her before she hurt herself.

"A little handsy there, aren't you, Lu?" She said grinning as she craned her head back to look at him. He had one arm lopped around her hip, his chest pressed against her back, and with his free hand, he guided hers back to the railing.

"Don't flatter yourself," he said, rolling his eyes as he adjusted himself to brace himself against her opposite side, wedging her between himself and the railing as they continued down the steps.

"Oh, come on, Lu, stop kidding yourself. I see the way you look at me," she teased, one arm slung lazily around his waist as he half-carrier her. She'd have gone for the shoulders, but he was too much taller than her for that to be comfortable.

"Anyone would be hard pressed to look at you any different when you do the things you do."

"Pft, you sure know how to sweet talk a lady," she replied sarcastically. "Really know how to make a girl feel special, don't you?"

Again Remus signed as they reached the landing of the staircase, turning to head down the next. "Well, I wouldn't want to inflate your ego," he answered dryly once they'd begun their descent.

"Oh, just admit it, you like me." Her words were still slurred but when she looked in his eyes, he could swear they looked suddenly alert, void of the typical drowsiness that accompanied drunkenness. "You like looking at me," she added, and it wasn't a question but a statement.

For a moment, he said nothing, not sure how to respond. She was right, of course, and it'd be stupid to deny it. Try as he might, he couldn't help it, and he knew it was noticeable. She was beautiful. Though her makeup seemed almost designed to ward people off, only luring in a particular brand of people, it didn't have the same effect on him. It didn't scare him away or color his perception of her, and he still found her infuriatingly attractive.

"So what if I do? I'm sure you're used to boys staring at you," he said as they reached another landing, "like it even," he finished as they walked past the great hall and to the final staircase that would take them to the corridor he knew led to the Hufflepuff common room as he'd seen the Hufflepuffs come up those stairs to breakfast in the mornings.

"Nothing of it, I just wanted to hear you say it," she replied, smirking to herself.

Remus scoffed and shook his head. "You're infuriating."

"I know," she whispered through a toothy grin.

Just as they neared the bottom of the steps, Wynonna finally lost her footing, slipping off the step and falling sideways into Remus, clinging to him tightly. Instinctively, he grabbed her, holding her close to his chest. A wave of something sweet hit his nose, something that smelled like coconut, and without meaning to or being aware of it, he turned his head down to her hair, recognizing it as the source of the scent and inhaled deeply.

It was intoxicating, that sweet smell of her hair and for a moment he almost forgot where he was and what he was doing. She steadied herself against him, regaining her footing, standing up properly. He sighed softly at the parting of her warmth and that delicious smell.

"Are you all right?" He asked, his voice thick and husky as he looked down at her, her face only inches from his own.

"Uh huh," Wynonna said, nodding, seeming struck herself by their closeness, looking up into those bright blue eyes of his.

The two started at each other in silence for a moment before Remus cleared his throat. "Er—I don't know where your dormitory is…"

"Oh, right," she said, shaking her head, then looking around. "This way," she nodded with her head before turning. Remus kept close to her still as they headed down a dark, deserted corridor, telling himself it had nothing to do with that intoxicating smell and all to do with making sure she didn't stumble again. A little lie he told himself, a little white lie.

Although she would die before she admitted it, she was glad that little moment hadn't scared him off, and glad that he remained close. He was so warm and even when he wasn't touching her, she could feel the heat coming off of him, a comforting warmth she would happily bathe in. So maybe he wasn't the only one that enjoyed whatever it was between them, maybe some part of her liked him back, like looking at him too.

And why shouldn't she? He may not be strikingly handsome in the way that Sirius Black was, but he was attractive. What he may have lacked in classic good-looks, he more than made up for in his kind eyes and soft, comforting features. It was sexy, even, his quiet demeanor and soft, shy glances. And those eyes…those blue eyes; she could get lost in them.

"Is this it?" He asked as they turned the corner and were met with a grand door.

Wynonna nodded and he stepped back, taking his soothing warmth with him. She frowned ever so slightly at the loss of it. "Night, Lu," she said, her voice softer than intended or would have ever thought possible in her presence. And despite her demeanor and slurred speech, she was more sober than she let on, sober enough to recognize that feeling stirring in the pit of her stomach.

"Goodnight, Wynonna," he said, using her first name for the first time. Normally, he spoke to her using her surname. She liked how her name sounded coming from him, a soft caress rather than the curse it was when other people said it.

She hadn't counted on any of that when she had cooked up this plan of hers in her head. She'd thought she was brilliant, thought it'd be fun to see what he'd do if she was drunk and sloppy around him. So far he hadn't done anything that surprised her. Even with her, despite clear provocation, he was calm and if not polite, at the very least civil. Or more civil than she gave him reason to be.

No, all the surprises this evening were on her end. When she'd set out to tease him, to test his boundaries, to see what other ways she could make him tick, she hadn't counted on how much she would enjoy it all. And as she turned toward the door, ready to clamber into her bed, she threw him one last glance, watching him standing there waiting to see her safely back to her dormitory as though he fancied himself some sort of gentleman, a finale to her plan sprung to her mind.

She wanted nothing more in that moment to shock him, to continue her little experiment beyond simply leaning on him and seeing what he'd do. She wanted to really test him, to see just how far she could go before she broke through that steely indifference of his. With little more than a twitch at the corner of her mouth for warning, Wynonna sauntered back to him, closing the distance between them in a few short strides. She curled her fingers into the front of his robes, thrust him back into the wall and muffled his cry of surprise with her lips against his.

Remus recovered quickly from the initial shock and his hands found their way to her waist, clutching her closer, their bodies flush against one another as they kissed hungrily, feverishly. It was better than he ever could have imagined and he had imagined it plenty. But his imagination hadn't done it justice. Only doing it for real could he properly revel in the softness of her lips, that sweet smell of her hair, and the way his pulse quickened with every passing second.

Wynonna, for her part, smirked against his lips, letting out a satisfied hum as she snaked one hand up his chest and around to the back of his neck, threading her fingers through his hair. She had expected him to respond, would have been shocked if he'd pushed her away, but he had exceeded her expectations. If this were an OWL, he'd have achieved Outstanding marks.

And she was happy to continue as long as he allowed her. He was better at this than she'd expected. Though she knew nothing of his exploits with girls, based on his reactions to her, she'd hazard a guess that they were few and far between if any at all. But as she fussed at his collar, her teeth catching his lower lip, teasing her way past the barrier of his collared shirt, feeling his warm skin on her finger tips, she felt an incredible rush of heat as he kissed her back expertly.

His hands gripped her in just the right places, in just the right ways, sliding up from her waist along the curves of her body until his hands rested at the place where shoulder met neck and he kissed her deep and passionate, a way she hadn't realized until that moment she'd always wanted to be kissed. She'd kissed her fair share of boys (among other things) and couldn't remember a single time it ever having felt like this. A pleasing chill spread throughout her body, radiating out from each point he touched her, and she had a sneaky suspicion she could get lost in that feeling, never wanting to let it go.

The sober, rational part of her brain, no matter how small, however, reminded her that she had to. For several reasons, she had to. So, with a playful tug at his hair, she had to all but drag her mouth away from his then, only to blaze a trail down along his jaw to his throat, feeling warmer every time she heard his breath catch, or the beginnings of a strangled groan. With a wry smirk, she pulled his collar aside and found a satisfying place to plant her lips, a deep scar just below his collar bone. She had no intention of letting him leave unmarked.

Then, as quick as it hard started, it stopped, and she walked away, leaving a breathless, properly shocked Remus standing in her wake. She opened the door to her dormitory without looking back at him, flipping him the bird over her shoulder before disappearing inside.

She climbed up to her dormitory, a smile on her lips and fell into bed fully clothed, lulled to sleep by a strange, earthy sort of smell that clung to her clothes, inhaling deeply before she drifted to sleep.

A quarter of an hour later Remus made it back through the portrait hole to Gryffindor tower, feeling an unfamiliar lightness. His friends were still awake when he returned though the sounds of the party had died down, many of them finally retreating to their beds. James, Sirius, and Peter, of course, were still in the common room, eagerly awaiting Remus's return. The three of them were very interested in knowing how his evening stroll had gone, though Remus intended to disappoint them. He would take the night's events to his grave; he didn't kiss and tell.

"Back already?" James said, not bothering to try to hide his smirk.

"Why shouldn't I be?" He asked dryly, falling back to the couch beside his friends.

"Oh, I don't know," said James, glancing in turn at Sirius and Peter.

"We thought you might not come back at all," Peter chimed in.

"More like hoped," Sirius said with a wide grin, showing all his teeth.

"Where was I supposed to have stayed?"

"Oh, I don't know," James said again, smirking still.

Remus merely shook his head in amusement. They were truly the best friends he'd ever had and likely ever would, but they could also be the absolute worst. No one knew quite how to push one's buttons than those who knew them the best. And the three boys sitting around him knew him better than anyone, for better or worse.

"Well, I'm sorry to disappoint you, but really, I don't know what you were expecting," he replied in that same dry, bored tone.

"You really meant to tell me nothing happened?" Peter asked, sounding disappointed that his brilliant plan had not produced more entertaining results.

"Other than her nearly falling down the stairs? No," Remus lied with surprising ease. Keeping secrets had become a specialty over the years. Though his friends had worked out his biggest secret quick enough, that was to be expected; they spent nearly every waking moment together. They'd had to have been supremely thick to not notice the patterns in his monthly absences.

"You're kidding?" James said, the same disappointment in his tone as Peter, readily believing him.

Only Sirius wasn't sporting a look of immense disappointment. He remained staring at him with a skeptical gaze. Perhaps deep down it had something to do with his deep seated familial prejudices against those like Remus, coloring his perception of him in these tiny, subtle was, or perhaps it was simply that despite their many differences, the two understood each other quite well, both to the annoyance of the other, but Remus could tell he wasn't buying it.

"Liar," he stated matter-of-factly, his tone dry and not altogether accusatory, but he wasn't teasing either. Somehow, he knew, could see it written on Remus's face in a way the others couldn't. Or maybe he just didn't trust him the way the others did.

"Believe what you want," Remus said with a shrug. "She hates me; I really don't understand what you all thought would happen."

"That, my friend, is not hate," Sirius replied, adopting the tone of a frustrated adult trying to teach a child that one and one made two.

"Whatever you say."

They could poke and prod all they wanted, but what happened in that corridor with Wynonna was a secret he intended to keep, and not just his secret. It was Wynonna's secret too. She had been drunk and not thinking clearly and he'd taken advantage enough kissing her at all; he didn't intend to go spilling a secret that belonged to her as well. Other boys had done plenty of that to her already, he didn't need to be one more boy cheaply boasting about his exploits with Wynonna Earp.

Though that was only part of it. For his own selfish reasons, he intended to keep the secret regardless. However mundane it may have been to her, it had been something special for him, like a night out of one of his many fantasies about her. Getting to experience it just once in reality was worth never speaking of it again, holding it close, a treasured memory.

Considering the matter settled now that his friends had quit pestering him, Remus bid the rest of them goodnight and headed up alone to his dormitory, glad of the opportunity to endlessly replay the night in his head without prying eyes. It had been a good night indeed.

At the part of her dream when she had walked away from a breathless Remus, her unconscious mind had extended the scene, imagining a far different ending. An ending in which Remus hadn't let her walk away from him, an ending in which Remus had taken full advantage of the opportunity she'd afforded him. In her dream they'd run off together in search of an abandoned classroom where she'd gotten to finish her exploration of his warm skin beneath his robes, and he too, had explored all of her.

Just before she came in her dream, Wynonna jolted awake at the sound of a knock on the door. Sitting up, she was unsurprised to feel beads of sweat at her brow and a familiar wetness between her thighs.

"What?" She barked at him through the closed door, unfairly frustrated with him for having interrupted her before she could finish.

"Er—" she heard him hesitate on the other side of the door, clearly taken aback by the anger in her voice. "I've made breakfast, er—whenever you're ready, but we should head out soon."

"Yeah, all right, gimme a minute," she replied, sighing heavily as she ran her fingers through her hair in frustration, groaning as she ran her hands back down her face. "Feckin' hell," she sighed again as she slipped out of his bed to get dressed.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Remus and Wynonna head out to the forest for their mission.

A minute later, Wynonna stepped out from Remus's room.

"Did you sleep well?" Remus asked as he took a seat at the table, now missing the messy pile of books, two plates with eggs and toast in their place.

"Fine, why?" She asked, taking a seat across from him and avoiding looking in his eyes. Images from her dream were still too fresh in her mind to chance looking at him.

"Just asking," he replied quietly, confused by her tone and avoidant gaze though not enough to comment on it.

"Right...and you?"

"Good, yeah. Sorry if it's a little bland, I'm not much of a cook."

"Melin's tits, Lu, relax. I'm not expecting a five-star meal for fuck's sake," she said, a touch of hostility in her tone, as unfairly directed at him as her earlier bark when he'd woken her up.

Remus raised his brows, not only confused but feeling a little assaulted by her tone. All he'd done was make breakfast and couldn't fathom how that could have possibly upset her. Yet she clearly seemed to be bothered by something.

"Are you all right?"

"'M fine," she bit out, pausing for a moment before she chanced a look at him. She regretted it almost instantly upon seeing the look on his face, feeling bad for taking out her frustrations on him. Though in her eyes, it was his fault she was frustrated, but she couldn't very well explain that to him. "Just…" She gestured at the food in front of her, "hungry I guess." She finished lamely, before looking away from him and taking a bite of her food.

"Right...well, as soon as you're finished eating, we should get ready and get going. I've got everything packed up and ready to go. I just need to shower and you might want to do the same. It might be awhile before you can shower properly again."

"Speaking of that, uhm, where exactly will we be staying?"

"I've got a tent. Well, I've borrowed a tent."

"Right, I guess that makes sense."

"Are you sure you're okay coming along?"

"Yeah, I said I'm fine."

"It's not going to be the most comfortable trip," Remus said with a shrug. "You don't have to go along."

"Do you not want me to go or what?" She asked, looking up at him once again. This time she was genuinely frustrated with him in a way in which she felt he'd earned.

"No it's just-you're still healing and…"

"What?"

"Nothing."

"No, go on, Lu, tell me," she said, dropping her fork on her plate with a clatter, sitting back and folding her arms tersely in front of her.

"Really, it's nothing...I just-you don't have to do this. You don't owe me or the Order anything."

"Owe you for what?"

"For saving you."

"Yeah, well, I didn't ask to be saved in the first place, so, yeah, I know I don't owe you anything."

Remus looked taken aback again by her hostility and shook his head, not at her but at himself for somehow continuing to piss her off when he was trying to do the opposite. From the minute he'd woken her, she'd seemed to be angry with him, and now was determined to stay that way for whatever reason.

"That's not what I meant, I just…" he paused again and shook his head. "I don't want you to feel like you have to do anything you don't want to do."

"Well, I wanna go."

"Why?"

"For fucks' sake, Lu, does it matter?"

"I guess not," he answered, keeping his response short and to the point. It seemed the more he said, the more likely he was to just irritate her further. Then, standing, he grabbed his plate and took it to the sink before waving his wand so it began to clean itself. "I'm going to get in the shower then."

Wynonna said nothing, just stared back at her plate, finishing her breakfast in silence. When she finished, like Remus, she set her plate in the sink where it began to clean itself.

While she waited for him to shower, she decided to poke around the rest of his place, marveling at the fact that he'd managed to outfit his small flat with so many bookshelves. As she pursued their shelves, she noted many of the books were educational in nature though was surprised to find an entire shelf dedicated to what appeared to be Muggle books. None of the pictures on the front were moving, so she just assumed. And she could distinctly remember having seen similar titles being read by Lily, who was Muggle-born.

A few more pictures littered these shelves, most containing the same two individuals she'd observed in the one clearly celebrating Remus's birthday. There was another birthday photograph, this time with the number nine on the cake, and again Wynonna examined it closely, seeing more and more of the features she was familiar with growing on the young boy's face. And again she noticed in this photo as well that his arms were covered in the same strange markings she'd seen in the other.

Struck suddenly by a realization, she scoured the shelves for more photographs of him in his younger days, finding the one she was looking for, the one of him preparing for his first day of school. Just as was the case in the photo of him with his friends, in this one as well he wore a long-sleeve sweater. A few more were taken from his school years and all of them had that in common. All the photos after he started school, he was never pictured without long sleeves, which tracked with her earlier realization that she'd never seen him in short sleeves. Only pictures with his parents when he was younger showed his arms and her suspicion from the night before returned.

Had he really not been even five years old when he was bitten? Did he have scars similar to the ones now littering her own body? Was this the reason, as she had so tastefully put it a few nights ago, that he dressed like a walking sweater?

Before she could think more about it, she heard the bathroom door open and she jumped and whipped her head around quickly. She blushed, feeling like she'd gotten caught doing something she wasn't supposed to be doing but he barely even looked her way. Instead he had slipped quickly from the bathroom to his bedroom and as she pondered those photographs and what they concealed, she was sure she knew why: To hide his own scars from her view. He'd been too late though. As he'd hurried into his room, she'd caught a quick enough glance at his exposed back to see.

She wasn't sure why she was so surprised. She already knew he was a werewolf, but somehow it shocked her to imagine that at some point in his own life, he had suffered through as painful an attack as she had. And though she wasn't positive, it appeared as though he'd been quite young when it had happened. She just found it hard to picture someone like him being a werewolf. He seemed so...good, that it just didn't add up that he'd been attacked in the first place, let alone that it hadn't turned him into some kind of monster.

It's what she'd always grown up believing, that werewolves were nothing but monsters. Not just subhuman but inhuman. When looking at herself it felt like some sort of cosmic justice that she'd be turned into one. She was a shitty human being, it only seemed fair. With Remus, it just seemed cruel.

"Your turn," his voice rang out, stirring her from her thoughts as he stepped back out from his room. She couldn't help but notice that once again he was dressed in a long sweater that seemed much too warm for the weather.

"Right. I'll try to be quick," she said, as she slipped into his room without looking at him to grab the small bag of her things she'd had with her on the night she'd been attacked before heading to the bathroom.

A short half hour later, the two, freshly showered, stood in his small kitchen, Wynonna standing idly beside him as he double checked they had everything they needed.

"I think we're good to go."

Wynonna hummed in thought. "Nope, something's missing," she replied, containing her grin. Her hot shower had washed away not just dirt and grime but all depressing or frustrating thoughts about the man next to her.

"What?" He said, poking through everything laid out before them, eyes alight with concern.

"Whiskey."

He stood up straight, turning to face her with a scowl. "Funny."

"I'm not joking," she answered dryly, and she really wasn't. "It's a necessity."

"I'm sure," he replied sarcastically.

"No, seriously. You do not wanna see me without my whiskey. I'm a nightmare."

"Oh, yes, can't imagine what that might be like."

Wynonna blinked before a wide grin spread on her lips, dimples appearing again. "Did you just make a joke, Lu?" Then she elbowed him in the side playfully without waiting for an answer. "I didn't know you were funny."

"There's a lot about me you don't know."

"Ooh, mysterious," she teased and Remus frowned, seemingly unamused. Though he couldn't hide his small grin.

"We'll get a bottle on the way."

"Wait, seriously?"

"Yeah, why not?"

"You trying to get me drunk?"

"Somehow I don't think I'd really have to try."  
"You're not wrong," she replied, smiling at him. "Well, let's go then. Aren't we in a hurry or something?"

Remus rolled his eyes and gathered the things into a backpack he'd magically enhanced to fit far more things than it ought to and the pair set out. After a quick stop at the liquor store down the street from Remus's flat, they wound their way into a small alley before disapparating to a field on the outskirts of a large forest.

"So," Wynonna said as she looked around as Remus began walking toward the woods, "what exactly are we doing anyway? Or is that confidential information."

"No," he replied, shaking his head, "It's not confidential. Dumbledore's been having me keep tabs on a few werewolf packs, ones on the fringes, to see whether Death Eaters come recruiting."

"And have they been?"

Remus nodded in silence and continued walking. The field was wide and open and he wanted to get under cover of the large pine trees in case they ran into any one, friendly or otherwise. They could apparate again but the noise was loud and Remus didn't want to alert anyone unnecessarily.

"Were The Seven?"

"What? Being recruited?"

Wynonna nodded in reply.

"I don't know. All the information I've heard of them, they keep mostly to themselves. As far as I know, they're not interested in picking sides." Pausing, he looked over his shoulder at her. "What do you know of them? You probably have better information than I do as far as they're concerned."

She shrugged and shook her head. "Nope. You've got about as much info as I do. But to be perfectly honest, we weren't exactly concerned about their motives. We only cared about one thing."

Remus hummed, a quiet, thoughtful sort of sound, feeling sure he knew what that one thing was. And it wasn't something he had an interest in bringing up. It did neither one of them any good to bring up her past and her family's business of hunting werewolves.

A silence settled between them after that and for nearly a half hour, they pair walked in silence until they reached the cover of the woods. Standing still, Remus craned his neck, listening intently. Though he was now over a week out from his last transformation, his senses were still heightened if he focused them enough. He might not be able to hear as well as he could in the day or two leading up to or from a transformation, he could hear far better than the average person.

"What're you-?"

Remus cut her off with a shake of his head, placing his fingers to his lips before turning his head again to listen closely. He wasn't sure exactly where the pack they were to watch would be camping so from here on out, they had to tread carefully. "I want to get a little further in," he told her in a whisper, walking deeper into the woods.

Another ten minutes passed in a tense silence, Wynonna wondering whether she ought to be on guard or if Remus was simply being cautious. Either way, she kept close to him and stayed quiet. When they reached a small clearing, Remus stopped again.

"If you can, start getting everything out of here," he said, slipping the backpack off his shoulder and handing it to Wynonna.

"What are you going to do?"

"Set up some enchantments so we can't be seen or heard."

Wynonna nodded in silence, before unzipping the bag while Remus walked around in a large circle around them, wand raised, muttering a stream of spells under his breath. For a moment, Wynonna got sucked in to watching him work, watching his intense focus as the air shimmered around them with whatever magic he was performing. At one point he had turned and she hastily busied herself in emptying the bag.

She took out the whiskey first-priorities-then worked on taking out the other essentials. After a minute or two, Remus made his way back to her side, staring at the pile of everything she'd pulled out. He grinned when he saw the whiskey.

"All the important things, I see."

"You know it," she said with a wink.

"Do you think you can gather up some wood for a fire?"

"Sure," she said standing and looking around. "Er-the perimeter?"

Remus smiled, then quickly explained to her the bounds of his enchantments so she knew where she could safely go. She set off, only to return a moment later, taking her bottle of whiskey with her. Again Remus grinned, shaking his head as she set off again and he began setting up the rest of their camp.

The tent itself was easy enough, though he fumbled the spell the first time and nearly tangled the whole thing. On the second try, it was erected perfectly and he stepped inside it to unpack other small essentials.

Being a tent borrowed from another wizard, it was larger on the inside than would appear from the outside, but it was still rather small. There was a small area that served as a sleeping area and a small area that could serve as a kitchen or dining area, but it was so small, Remus figured they'd just eat outside around the fire anyway.

When Remus stepped back outside, not only had Wynonna gathered enough wood for a campfire, but had lit it as well. And, Remus noted with another grin, she'd already poured herself a small glass of whiskey.

Remus took a seat beside her, taking a break and raising a brow at her as he eyed her drink. "What? It's afternoon now and I deserve a drink."

"Oh, yes, gathering firewood is such hard work."

"I'm still healing, dickhead."

"Em hm," he replied, narrowing his eyes playfully. "Though apparently not your liver."

"Whatever," she said, pouring herself another glass. "Do you want some?"

Remus remained silent for a moment, contemplating. It was a tempting offer, really. The day was chillier than expected given it was still summer, but the clouds had hidden the sun and its warmth. In the end, however, he shook his head. "Maybe later."

"I'll hold you to that," she replied, and Remus was certain she meant it. She'd been like that when they were kids too, not necessarily in regard to himself as she generally limited actually speaking to him as much as possible, settling instead for glaring and teasing from across classrooms. But he had seen her egg on others, particularly James, who, strictly speaking, didn't need egging on, and Sirius who usually had a glass before she could offer him one.

"So, what's the plan for today, Lu?" Wynonna asked a quarter of an hour later as Remus returned to the fire again now that he'd unpacked their belongings and the tent was now fully set up.

"Afraid there isn't one really. We're just here to keep an eye on things and report back. In a bit I think I might go have a look around and see if I can't pinpoint where this pack is holding out." With an exhausted sort of sigh, he took a seat across from Wynonna around the fire, staring into its orange flames, reveling in the warmth offered. "Though you don't have to join me for that. I know you didn't exactly sign up for this," he added with a sympathetic shrug.

"Didn't we go over this already? I didn't turn it down either," she replied, taking a small sip from her whiskey.

"I know, but as you said, you're still healing and you really ought to rest. You shouldn't be doing anything too strenuous."

"So I'm just supposed to sit here all day?" She asked, annoyance dripping from her words. Though if she were being perfectly honest, tagging along and doing a bit of recon didn't tickle her fancy either.

"You're more than welcome to wander around within the perimeter I've set up. It's more than enough space."

"Well, thanks, Captain," she replied sarcastically.

"You really don't have to stay if you don't want to," he said again, and though he could have been harsh with his words, since he'd given her plenty of outs already, they were as sincere as ever, almost infuriatingly so. Sometimes she wondered how he was able to do it. How he was able to summon so much patience with her when others would have kicked her to the curb by now.

"I can arrange a Portkey to take you back," he continued after she gave no reply.

"No," she replied quickly. "No-er, it's fine," she said, slower this time. The truth was, she didn't have anywhere to go. Deep down a part of her knew they wouldn't turn her away if she tried to take up residence back at headquarters, but she had no interest in returning there. There was nothing there for her and joining up with the Order wasn't part of her plans.

As pathetic as it was, Remus was all she had right now. Loathe as she was to admit it, she needed him too. This new life of hers, being a werewolf was all new to her and it obviously wasn't new to him. If there was ever a person qualified to help her transition to this new life, it was Remus.

"But, uh...just out of curiosity, how long are we going to be out here?"

"At least until the next full moon."

"Three weeks!?" Wynonna bolted upright from where she sat on the other side of the fire, spilling a bit of whiskey from her cup, staring back at Remus with wide eyes.

"It's a stakeout, Earp. That's sort of how they work, it's just a lot of waiting. Again," he he paused, sighing, already feeling he knew what her response would be this time, too, "you don't have to stay. I wouldn't blame you if you wanted to turn back, no one would. It's not exactly glamorous work." For people like him, unglamorous work was usually all they could find, even amongst the ranks of the order who liked to preach their tolerance and acceptance. Even for them, those things only stretched so far.

"No," she replied once more as Remus had known she would, her voice firm and set. As worried as she was for the full moon in three weeks time, she knew it would be far better to be with him through it than on her own. In this one regard, she was willing to put aside her desire to be a lone wolf. Try as she might to portray otherwise, Wynonna wasn't totally fearless. "I want to be here," she added finally, quietly, her voice almost shy.

"Well, make yourself comfortable. I shouldn't be more than a few hours," he said, deciding now was as good a time as ever to get started on the business of the day. Remus retreated then back into the tent to pack a small bag of things he may need.

Just a few minutes later, Remus emerged, wand in hand. While he was out, he figured he'd try to find something to eat as well and had packed a few things in his magically expanded bag for fishing. Having magic at his disposal made it easier by far and it was really as simple as summoning some fish from a nearby body of water.

The hardest part would be finding a suitable place to do so. As he and Wynonna were no the only two werewolves using this forest for cover, Remus wouldn't be the only one searching for a source of food. The trick would be avoiding a run in with the pack they were tracking and getting the fish he needed fast.

After that, making dinner was easy enough. Remus was no expert at domestic spells like those required to make a meal, but he could at least scrounge up something edible. It would have to do for the time being. Once he was sure where they other pack was, he'd have a better idea of where they could and could not go so as to not run into them.

Within a half an hour, he'd found a small creek with a few fish ready for the taking. With a lazy flick of his wand, he summoned a few fish, fumbling to catch them all as they flew out of the water toward him all at once. He grabbed the largest, placing them in his bag and quickly threw the others back into the water before continuing on.

As he traversed slowly through the woods, pausing every so often to listen to his surroundings, expecting at any moment to hear sounds of the werewolf pack, his mind kept drifting back to Wynonna at the camp and how strange it was to be in such close company with her.

It was still strange to him that of all the people he could have wound up being forced into close company with, it ended up being Wynonna. Even more strange was how little it felt like a burden or something he was forced into. While he could never say he would have chosen her as a work companion if given the choice, it was hardly as bad as he would have expected it had someone suggested it.

All of his work for the order thus far had been done alone for obvious reasons so he had hardly ever expected to share space with anyone let alone Wynonna Earp. Or as Sirius had called her, his old flame. As he walked, he laughed to himself at the very idea of her having been anything close to an old flame. For that to have been true, there would have had to have been some sort of an actual relationship between them, though that was far from the case.

Apart from their one kiss, the memory of which had cropped up in the past week on more than one occasion, Wynonna had never been much more than an adolescent crush, a school boy's fantasy. Even if she hadn't so viciously and obviously despised him back then, he'd never imagined having a relationship with her. Not even if, by some miracle, she had shown any hint of interest in having one with him.

Truth be told, Remus had never imagined having a romantic relationship with anyone. During his years at Hogwarts, relationships hadn't been at the forefront of his mind, nor had that changed as he'd gotten older. Being what he was, relationships were a touch more complicated than they were for others. People in the wizarding world weren't exactly queuing up to be involved with a werewolf. One wrong move, one kiss too fierce, one nibble too hard, one scratch, and Remus could risk spreading his condition to someone else. But even if it weren't so easily spread from one person to another, the negative stigma against werewolves was so strong, most could barely even look at him once they found out what he was.

That wasn't to say that Remus hadn't dabbled in relationships since leaving Hogwarts but his experience was limited. There were certain precautions he could take, measures to ensure that whomever he chose to spend time with in that way wouldn't contract his disease, and he always took all of them. In the end though, anything beyond an evening, maybe two, was too much of a risk and too much of a hassle. There was no point getting close to anyone only for them to discover what he was and leave.

Where Wynonna was concerned, he had never gotten the impression she was interested in relationships. After all, she hadn't been known so much for having many boyfriends as she was for spending the night with many boys. Whatever her particular reasons for not keeping any of them around longer than a night, Remus couldn't speak to, but it was clear she had her own aversion. Thus, instead, the pair had seemingly fallen strangely comfortable with their frustrated flirtation, neither wishing to take things any further than that one kiss that one evening.

Nearing a small clearing, Remus suddenly heard voices coming toward him, effectively tearing Remus from his thoughts of Wynonna as he couched low, ducking into cover among some bushes, holding his breath as a group of people approached. Without needing to see them clearly, he could already tell this was the pack he'd been looking for. His senses were still heightened from his recent transformation and he could smell them as clear as day. He hoped their numbers and respective scents would disguise his own from their notice.

As they stepped into view, Remus noted that none of them looked familiar to him, but he'd never made it a priority to try to mix or mingle with other werewolves. He wasn't fond of his condition, nor did he have any desire to embrace it as so many others did. He never judged the others or looked at them with disdain, those feelings were all directed inward to himself, but he also never wanted to be a part of their world.

"Did you hear that?" One of them asked, holding out his arm to stop the others. Wordlessly, Remus put a disillusionment charm on himself. The only way they would be able to see him now would be to look very closely indeed. At just a glance, all they would see were the bushes he was crouched behind.

"It's a woods, Rafe," another, deeper voice replied. "What you think it's gonna be? Place is crawling with things. For all you know, it was a bloody squirrel."

"Yeah, or it could be something else," said the first voice again.

"Oi, come off it. No one's looking for us out here. No one cares that we're out here. The Dark Lord doesn't give a rats arse about any one of us, no matter what he says, " the second, deeper voice rang out again.

A few grunts of agreement sounded among the group as their footsteps picked up once more, the group heading to the east. Remus took a change to adjust enough to see them depart, noting one lagging, muttering under his breath, looking mutinously at the departing group before eventually falling in line behind them.

Remus watched a moment longer as they departed, until they disappeared deeper into the woods and he could no longer hear or smell them. He then headed back in the direction of his campsite. With the conversation he'd overheard, he didn't deem it necessary to follow them to their exact location. Knowing their general whereabouts was good enough for now.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Remus returns from his days work and the pair spend their first night together in the woods.

"Back so soon, are you?" Wynonna questioned as she saw him reappear through their domed protective enchantments. "And here I was just beginning to enjoy my solitude," she added with a heavy hint of sarcasm.

"Sorry to disappoint you," he replied, shaking his head. Everything was a joke to her he'd come to realize quickly enough, and though he could see how the trait would be annoying to some, he found it oddly endearing. He would never admit that to her, of course.

"What you got there?" And she pointed to the small bag he carried with him.

"Just dinner. I grabbed a few fish from a creek not too far from here." Pausing, suddenly struck with a terrifying thought, he turned to her with a concerned, wide-eyed expression. "Shit, do you eat fish?"

Wynonna snorted in laughter, shaking her head in return. It was sort of adorable that he seemed to worried about her, about what she liked or didn't like. "Yeah, Lu, I eat fish. Besides, beggars can't be choosers, can we?"

With a sigh of relief, he nodded, "I suppose not. I figure I can try to make something edible out of it with a bit of magic and...do you cook?"

"Merlin's beard, no," she answered, looking terrified at the prospect. She'd be a menace in the kitchen, if she ever stepped in foot of one for something other than a drink. "Not unless you want the whole damn forest burnt down."

"Right, well, I'll see what I can do then." He'd had a similar worry in the morning, that she would be picky or judge his cooking skills, but this time his worry lessened as he remembered it'd hadn't bothered her then.

Later, a while after the sun had fallen beneath the tops of the tall pine trees surrounding them, when they were both well and hungry, Remus had made quick work of dinner. It was nothing to write home about, but it was tasty enough. And it was filling, and that's what really mattered. Afterward, the two sat around the fire, resting, their bellies full.

"Can I ask you something?" Wynonna had asked, breaking the comfortable silence, her voice brimming with curiosity yet hesitant as well.

"I feel like I'm going to regret this," he answered, keeping his tone light, though her hesitance had him worried. "Go ahead."

"How long-how long have you-"

"Been a werewolf?" He finished for her, looking her in the eyes, letting out a soft sigh.

"Yeah. I mean, you don't-you don't have to, you know...if you don't want to," she added, trying to keep her voice light and conversational, though Remus could tell she was dying to know. He also suspected she had an idea of just how long it had been. "It's just-well, I've never met a werewolf."

Remus raised a brow in response to her words, a blatant show of his skepticism. He happened to know for a fact that she had met a werewolf before, several in fact. Not even just on the night she'd tried to hunt them down; he knew her family had hunted other werewolves over the years. His father had also told him many years ago now about an attack on her family at their home. He didn't know much about the night, only that her father had died and her oldest sister had been taken by the pack, and he never intended to tell her he knew about that.

"Fine," she conceded, reading his mind. "I haven't met a werewolf I didn't want to kill," she said with a shudder as the words left her lips. She really had wanted to kill so many, had in fact killed a few-what must he think of her? Here he was, a kind, decent man who had saved her from a pack of raging werewolves she'd been hunting, and up until that night, she'd made it her life's mission to kill not only The Seven but all werewolves, even ones like Remus if she happened upon them. He must think she was a monster.

"Don't be too hard on yourself. You're not the only one who would happily see creatures like me dead," he said, reading the thoughts written all too plainly across her features, noticeable in the way she avoided his eyes. "You'd be surprised to looks and whispers I get e en from the Order. They all trust Dumbledore and therefore don't question him, but…" he paused, shrugging, "people always find it easier to stand on the moral high ground when they're not actually being challenged. They might preach tolerance and acceptance, but even for the 'good' ones, it's easier said than done."

For a long, tense moment, Wynonna said nothing, staring through the fire at him, mulling his words over in her head, wondering how much of it was true. She didn't doubt him, merely wondered just how many people in the Order didn't trust Remus because of what he was. Bloody hypocrites, she thought, sighing heavily and reaching into her bag, pulling out the bottle of whiskey again.

"Want some?" If they were going to continue this conversation, he was going to need some. And if he didn't want any, she'd drink his share for him.

"Why not," he shrugged. One drink wouldn't hurt and the taste appealed to him especially strong in the moment.

"That a boy, Lu," she purred, grinning and conjuring two glasses for the, pouring a touch in his while nearly filling her own.

Remus thanked her, grinning in amusement at the noticeable difference between their pours though he didn't object. A small amount was more than enough for him.

After another long moment of silence as the pair sipped their drinks, allowing the warmth to flow through and settle inside them, Wynonna broke it tentatively once more. "So…" she prodded, her curiosity nagging at her.

"I think you already know the answer."

"It's been a long time, hasn't it?"

Remus nodded without meeting her eyes, instead staring intently into his glass of whiskey. "I was bitten when I was five." As hard as it may have been for her to believe, no one else really knew that. James, Peter, and Sirius were among the few who did. Them and a few others who had needed to know. His condition was the one thing that Remus was most closed up about. Usually a very honest man, opting never to lie when asked direct questions, that didn't always extend to his condition. Too much was at risk to answer truthfully all the time. Not everyone reacted well to the news.

"Bloody hell," Wynonna answered, her suspicions from seeing his family photos confirmed. "Bloody hell," she repeated, having no clue what else she was meant to say to that, and her extending her condolences just seemed phony. "I uh, I saw your pictures in your flat…."

Remus nodded and said nothing. He already knew that, of course, he had caught her looking around the shelves in his living room and suspected she'd done the same to those in his bedroom. It didn't bother him either; curiosity wasn't a crime. She was more tactful about it than he'd expected, and indeed more tactful than others had been in the past.

"So the whole time at school…"

Again Remus nodded, taking another small sip of his drink. "Yep, werewolf."

"Bloody feckin' hell," she said again, throwing back her glass, emptying its remaining contents down her throat.

Remus actually let out a soft chuckle watching her shake her head as she took it all in. Even if she'd suspected it, clearly hearing it out loud, knowing it was true, that he really had been like this almost all of his life, had shaken her. A lot of people responded that way, surprised, which was one of the reasons he rarely told anyone. At least Wynonna hadn't flashed him any of those pitying looks he'd grown familiar with.

"I think you need another drink," she said, this time filling his glass all the way to the top as she did with her own.

"Now who's trying to get who drunk?"

"Please," she scoffed, "If I wanted you to get drunk, you'd know it. And you'd already be drunk by now."

"I believe it," he said, shaking his head with a laugh.

"Do you even get drunk, Lu?"

"Not really, no. Losing control of myself once a month is more than enough for me." Letting out a breath of air, he shook his head again. "You think hangovers are bad, just wait."

Wynonna groaned. "Please, don't remind me. We can cross that bridge when we come to it. For now, I'm trying to forget that nasty business." She shook her head emphatically, taking a large swig of her drink. "I don't even want to think about how awful it's going to be."

"It won't be as bad with me?"

"Yeah? And why's that?"

Remus shrugged, "Don't know. When-" he cut off then, catching himself.

"What?"

"No, nothing."

"Come on? Don't hold out on me now."

Remus clicked his tongue and shook his head. "Sorry, not my secret to tell. But let's just say that I've been transformed around other animals and it's...different. It's easier. Sometimes I almost even felt like myself, or at least could still recognize a part of myself in there somewhere."

"And the times you weren't with other animals?"

"Like you said, we'll cross that bridge when we come to it."

Wynonna groaned again and kicked playfully at his shins. "You dickhead. You're enjoying this aren't you?"

"I'm really not. Besides, telling you now won't make it any better when it actually happens. Nothing I could ever say would ever prepare you."

"Thanks for that, Lu."

Remus just shrugged apologetically. Unfortunately, that was the truth of the matter. He could sit here and tell her in detail all that happened during a transformation, explain the pain she would endure, but none of it would measure up to reality. All he'd succeed in doing would be to make her even more anxious for what awaited her. When the time came, he'd tell her all she needed to know. The rest she'd have to experience on her own.

"Wait, you really do sleep like that all the time?" Wynonna asked later that night as the pair retreated into the tent for the night.

Emerging back into the small space that housed the bed they'd have to share-magically enlarged or not, there still wasn't space for two beds-he looked down at his clothing, covered as usual from neck to ankle, and shrugged. "You didn't really think I slept in the nude, did you?"

"A girl could hope," she replied, staring at him with wide eyes. "It's not that cold out, Lu."

"It's not really about the cold."

It only took a moment of confusion before understanding began to settle in. It had only been a quick glance, but she had seen similar scars to her own lining his back. From his pictures in his flat, she already knew they lined his arms, too, and she'd hazard a guess the rest of his body must be marred with them as well. Had he slept like that all through school too? Covering up his scars, hiding them from his peers to keep his secret safe?

She let out a small, indescribable breath of laughter. "So it's all right for you to see mine but I can't see yours?"

Wynonna hadn't meant for her words to have as sharp of teeth as they did, but she found herself annoyed that when she'd all but begged him to let her be, to allow her that small, minuscule bit of dignity, he'd refused. It didn't matter that it had been for her own good, to help her even. He'd seen her at her most vulnerable and now he was being shy? About scars that were just like the ones he knew she had.

Standing on the other side of the bed from her, he stared, dumbfounded, unable to read whether she was serious or not. Her eyes bore into them with a ferocity he hadn't seen since they were kids, and the way her lips were pulled tightly suggested she was serious.

"Why do-are you being serious right now?"

She shrugged, trying to shake off her irritation, knowing it was irrational. "I-no."

A painfully awkward silence settled as the two stood, still staring at one another before Remus coughed, clearing his throat. "Er-well, goodnight," he stated quietly, climbing beneath the blankets of their makeshift bed and waving his wand at the lanterns, snuffing out their light.

Wordlessly, Wynonna slipped off her jeans, them falling to the ground with a dull thud, and clang of her belt. Next he heard her the sound of her jacket being pulled off, that telltale sound of leather on leather before he felt her weight sink into the bed beside him.

"Night," Wynonna whispered quietly, lying on her side, her back turned to him.

Remus said nothing and Wynonna figured he'd already slipped off into sleep, but he lied awake still, mulling over that strange interaction. He supposed it was unfair that she had been forced into so many uncomfortable situations with him while he was allowed to keep his privacy, his secrecy, his comfort. Only with Sirius's teasing had Remus felt uncomfortable and that hardly compared to what Wynonna had gone through. And he suspected it wasn't really about seeing his scars but seeing him vulnerable.

Fair or not, he hoped he'd never have to show the same things she had. Though he knew, sooner rather than later, he would have to. When the full moon came, there would be no more hiding, no more putting on a brace face. There was never a more vulnerable time for him than the time before and after a transformation. That would be the first time he had to bare himself to her and there was nothing he could do about it. It was a painful inevitability. And it was with those thoughts that Remus eventually drifted off into a fitful sleep.

The following morning, Wynonna awoke, feeling surprisingly rested, and she inhaled deeply as a pleasing, piney smell assaulted her senses. A soft hum escaped her as she turned her head, seeking more of that scent when recognition finally hit her, snapping her back to reality. Her lids flew open and she found herself mere inches from Remus's jaw, her head resting in the crook of his neck, one arm draped lazily over his torso. Biting her lip, she tried to move as quickly and gently as she could away from him, hoping he was still sound asleep.

She didn't really fancy the idea of him waking up to her half on top of him. She'd embarrassed herself around him more than enough in the past twenty-four hours. The last thing she needed was him teasing her about bloody cuddling him in her sleep. But Merlin's tits, he was so warm.

Even now, as she untangled herself from him, she was half tempted to settle back in beside him and damn it to tell any snarky, teasing remarks she'd get for it. Between that smell and his warmth, Wynonna had never known anything else to be so inviting. Not even the bottom of a bottle of whiskey felt as comforting as he did.

Next to her, despite her best efforts, Remus began to stir awake. The absence of her body heat and that sweet smell of coconut that came with her, woke him. Breathing deeply, he found it curious that after all these years, she still smelled the same. Even more curious, it still drew him in as it had done when they were in school. Where Remus had managed to forget his adolescent crush over the years, his nose certainly hadn't. And he couldn't help but remember the last time he'd been able to smell it like this, up close and personal.

Though with a jolt or warmth, he jumped awake, sitting up abruptly beside her as he quickly tried to shove the thought of kissing her from his mind before it had time to settle. He feared, in his half-asleep state, that if he ruminated on memories like that for too long, he'd hav a serious problem on his hands, one he couldn't hide either. Not in such close quarters.

"What? What's wrong?" Wynonna half shouted beside him, pulling the blankets up to her chest and looking around in alarm.

"Huh?" He replied, eyes awake and alert, turning to her and almost laughing at her expression. He hadn't meant to startle her. "Oh, nothing. It's nothing. Sorry."

"Shite, Lu, what good was saving me if you were just gonna give me a damn heart attack, huh?"

Remus merely laughed, shaking his head as he settled back down, memories of their one shared kiss tucked back safely in the corners of his mind where they wouldn't cause him trouble. "I didn't mean to startle you."

"Yeah, well…" she replied, noticeably irritated, shaking her head at him. "What was that about anyway?"

"Er-dream, I guess."

Wynonna let out a quiet, frustrated growl but said nothing, settling back comfortably on the bed, sitting and eyeing him warily as though he may startle her again any minute.

"Sorry if I woke you," he said after a moment as he slipped out of bed and stood.

"No, no, you didn't," she replied, letting out a quiet sigh of relief that he apparently hadn't noticed she'd fallen asleep on top of him. "I was already awake."

"Oh, good." He pursed his lips, standing there, feeling slightly awkward as another silence settled in between them.

"Er-" Both Wynonna and Remus began simultaneously.

"Oh, no, you go," Remus offered.

"Er-about last night."

Remus raised a questioning brow at her. "What about last night?"

"About your scars…"

"Oh," Remus laughed, shaking his head and waving off her concerns. "Don't worry about it. It's fine."

"I didn't mean anything."

"I know. Really, don't worry about it. I know none of this is easy, but trust me, seeing my pale-ass, scar-riddled body isn't going to make it any better."

"Don't know until we try though, right?" She teased.

"No, really, I know. Trust me." he replied, shaking his head.

"All right, for now," she said, flashing him a wink. Now in the light of day, she felt foolish and childish having gotten upset the night before.

She knew it was silly and that it wasn't his fault she'd found herself in the position she had. He'd only been trying to help. Wynonna just wasn't used to allowing people to do that. She'd always had to look after herself for as long as she could remember. Transitioning into trusting someone else with her well-being, letting herself be seen by someone else, was not easy.

She waited until he left the tent, preparing some breakfast for the two of them before she slipped out of bed and got dressed, joining him outside a few minutes later. He was still wearing his pajamas, and Wynonna noticed with a chuckle, some festive looking slippers.

"A bit early for Christmas slippers isn't it?"

Remus laughed, looking down at his feet. "They were the only ones I could find."

Wynonna snorted as she took a seat by the fire Remus had lit, curling her arms around her to stave off the morning chill.

"Okay, I may have been a bit premature, poking fun at you about your sweaters," she said with a shiver. She had her jacket and jeans on again, but that cold English air seeped right through them both, chilling her to her bone.

"If you're cold, I've got more inside. You're welcome to borrow one."

"Nah, I'm all right, Lu, it's these damn woods. There's no sun."

"Not until around midday, no," he said, passing her a plate of eggs and more of the fish he'd cooked the night before.

After breakfast, Remus again set out on his own doing whatever it was Dumbledore and the Order needed doing. Wynonna never knew and didn't bother asking. Each day of the next two weeks passed in the same manner. They'd wake up and Remus would set off, being gone from the camp for most of the afternoon before returning in time for dinner.

At some point Wynonna convinced herself she was keeping watch of the place, but she knew it was bullshit. She knew the reality was that she was just an extra body Remus hadn't counted on being there and didn't know what to do with. On a couple of occasions, she'd considered tagging along with him but always inevitably changed her mind when it came time to suggest it. She didn't like the solitude; it left too much time for her to think and that was never good.

Evenings were better, once Remus returned. The pair spent most of the night sitting around the fire and chatting, sometimes Remus filling her in on what he got up to during the day. With each passing night, Wynonna found it easier and easier to talk with Remus and this fact took her by surprise.

Remus too felt similarly surprised. Though he'd always found conversations easy no matter who the person, he had expected a tension between the two of them specifically. All their playful banter aside, and Wynonna's constant jibes, he'd imagined the facade would eventually fall away, leaving an uncomfortable air between them. But each day, he was surprised to find that never happened. If anything, the opposite occurred and he found himself getting used to her presence, getting used to talking to her and having her around.

If someone had told him when he'd been a student that he'd one day spend so much time with Wynonna and not only tolerate it but enjoy it, developing something almost like friendship with her, he never would have believed them. He'd have thought that Wynonna would always hate him. But he was now beginning to wonder if it'd ever really been hate to begin with. Even Sirius had once told him that her behavior toward him during school was not what hate looks like. Regardless, he still didn't know what it ought to have been called.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Weeks pass as the full moon approaches while Remus and Wynonna grow closer, old memories and old feelings beginning to stir.

One night as the pair sat close together in the cool night air, no longer on opposite sides of the fire from one another, they talked easily, falling into comfortable banter with one another.

"When you act like that, no one likes you," Remus teased as Wynonna recounted a story for Remus from the time between leaving Hogwarts and the night of her attack.

"That's the idea," she replied, her fingernails tapping idly against the bottle she'd been magically refilling since the night Remus had given it to her. "Doesn't seem to work so great on you though," she added, turning her gaze upon him, the orange glow of the fire reflected in her blue eyes in the darkness.

Remus didn't bother to hold back his scoff at her words, following it up with a roll of his eyes. Of course that was the idea behind her standoffish demeanor. Not too much had changed since they were kids. "Not everyone has the level of tolerance I do," he said, taking the bottle from her idle hands.

"Oi!" She hissed, making a half-hearted grab for the bottle as he drew it out of her reach. "I was drinking that," she added, scowling as she shifted in her seat beside him, still so uncomfortable in her own scar-riddled skin.

"I didn't say you couldn't have it," Remus said offhandledly, pouring some into his own glass, freshly conjured from thin air before setting it back down close enough to her where she could grab it herself.

Teeth grinding, Wynonna rubbed at the side of her nose and glanced out into the darkness, knees pulled up under her chin. "Yeah, yeah, bloody angel of a man, you," she said, repeating the phrase she'd taken to saying to him every chance she could over the past few weeks.

Taking a sip of his drink, he eyed her carefully over the rim of his glass as she settled into a comfortable position beside him, wondering what was going on in that head of hers as she stared out into the distance. "How is it you manage to make what ought to be a compliment sound like an insult?" He questioned, though admittedly, if she'd said it sincerely, he'd have to disagree with her.

Picking up the bottle from where it sat by her feet, she brought it directly to her mouth for another sloppy swig. Her blue eyes settled then on his face as she dragged her sleeve across her chin, his question inspiring a snort and something dangerously close to a true smile, the one where her dimples showed. "Practice," she replied. "Lots and lots of it. Why?" She added, the bottle moving back to her lips, pausing just short of resting against them. "Hoping for a lesson, Lu?"

Remus laughed good-naturedly, shaking his head, amusement glistening in his own stageringly blue eyes. There was that somehow endearing thing about her when she made her endless jokes, though no doubt he was one of the few who might think so. But he'd always had a habit of finding beauty in things other didn't.

"What makes you think I need one?" He asked, a cheeky sort of grin accompanying his words as he slowly brought his glass to his lips for another sip. His grin was barely concealed behind the glass as he took the smallest of sips-it wouldn't do for them both to get drunk, and it was clear once again that Wynonna had graciously and enthusiastically taken up that role fo the evening.

As Remus's laughter reached her ears, a warmth washed over her at the sound and she cocked her head to the side, eyeing him curiously-the laughter lines of a much older man lingering at the corners of his eyes. These were the sorts of things that drew someone to a person; she'd always known that much, but had never been able to emulate any of it, not even for Waverly's sake, or to placate her aunt. (I love you, Wynonna, Gus had said, but you're as broken as they come.)

Licking her lips, she squinted at him through the half-light, noting the way the shadows from the flame danced across his features, accentuating the hollowness to his cheeks. "Hm, imagine it's those angelic dimples of yours," she finally answered. A hint of a smirk flickered at the corner of her mouth before retreating, quick as a passing shadow.

"Oh, that's it, is it?" Remus's own grin widened and those blue eyes shone with amusement as he swallowed further laughter. She's one to talk, he thought, her own dimples making that hardened expression she tried so hard to keep up slip away to reveal the person that lay beneath. It was funny almost, the way she perceived herself as this broken, haunted thing, yet he rarely saw a trace of what made her feel that way.

"My evil plan is working then," he added with a look of forced coolness and mystery, negated by his inability to keep it in place longer than a second before his smile cracked back into place.

"Evil plan?" Wynonna had to chuckle at that, studying his face as if trying to find anything remotely hard in his features, let alone evil. The experiment was a complete failure, just as it always had been during school. Remus Lupin had, by far, the sweetest face and the kindest eyes she'd ever seen-two things that had royally pissed her off when they were younger, for some, inexplicable reason.

"Please, I think I've met hamsters more menacing than you," Wynonna continued, once again bringing the bottle to her lips, savoring the burn as the liquor snaked down her throat to coil in her belly. "At least outside a full moon, eh?"

Once more, his lips turned upward in a smile. Half of him was tempted to argue that he could in fact be very menacing, a downright monster, but he knew there was no use. The very fact that he wasn't any of those things was his only solace in this life, the only thing that kept him going when his darkest thoughts prodded his idle, tired mind, haunting him with the knowledge of what he was. Though he did try to throw a scowl at her in jest, but just as he'd failed to look cool and mysterious before, he failed to look menacing now.

"Save it for the stray wolves, sparky," she said, catching sight of his attempted scowl. Even if he'd pulled it off properly, she would have taken it seriously. He could screw up his face in any scary way he liked, but it'd never reach his eyes, and it was in his eyes she could always see his true intentions. There was just something about them, a gentleness that never seemed to leave him, one that calmed every fretful urge within her.

"All right, all right, so I'm a big softie," he said with a shrug, wiping his feigned scowl away, "there's enough evil in the world as it is, I think."

Wynonna inclined her head in agreement. He certainly had that right, she thought, her fingernails tapping again idly against the bottle in her hand, and she was suddenly struck with the thought that she'd have to be more prudent about trimming them from now on. They were weapons now. The thought had her bringing the bottle once again to her lips, followed by the back of her hand swiping across her mouth.

"You weren't always so soft on me, as I recall," she said as she brought the bottle away from her lips-a half-teasing remark, as they both knew full well she'd done everything in her power to ensure he wouldn't be. "Dunno if evil'd work on you anyway-that hair," she added, leaning in toward him without thinking about it, ruffling his hair, a lopsided grin on her face, "don't exactly scream bad guy either, you know."

Remus's indignant protests at her suggestion that it had been him who hadn't been soft on her, were all but forgotten the moment her fingers threaded through his hair, her nails scratching gently against his scalp, sending a shiver down his spine and the hairs on his arms and neck to stand on end. When she drew her hand back, his sense came flooding back and he looked at her indignantly.

"Oh, you mean between being flipped the bird or being knocked into the corridors any chance you got? I think it was you who wasn't soft on me."

His brow arched accusingly, though his voice went a little softer at the end, as a memory slipped to the forefront of his mind, propelled by drink and that familiar feeling still lingering from when she'd touched his hair.

"Except that one time, anyway," he added, recalling the one and only time she had been soft on him. She'd run her fingers through his hair then too.

When he met her gaze then, he'd intended to have a playful smirk in place, flirtatious and confident, but he wasn't sure he'd managed it, too busy still fighting off that odd, warming feeling he had that had nothing to do with the alcohol nor the fire beside them.

With a grin, the kind Remus could never pull off, Wynonna replied, "I remember that." Her hand came up to brush his shoulder then as she shifted positions, pretending to use him for balance as she did so. Getting more comfortable, she closed her eyes, recalling the warmth of his eager hands sliding past her waist to press against the small of her back-the sound he'd made when her mouth moved down a line to his throat had certainly been one to remember. A smirk curled her way across her mouth and she flushed briefly in the darkness remembering her dream from a few weeks before.

Remus watched, his heart beating faster as she rested her hand against him again, eyeing her curiously as she closed her eyes. She sighed and blushed and he found himself dying to know what she was thinking about. But before he could ask, the blush slipped away and her eyes opened again, now harboring a mischievous that made him blush in turn.

"Left you with a little love bite, didn't I?" she asked, her hand sliding down from his shoulder, plucking aside the collar of his shirt so her thumb could ghost along his collar bone. "Right about...here."

She stopped just short of the hollow at the base of his throat, letting her hand rest there, her smirk suddenly blossoming into a smug, knowing little smile. "Oh, you were definitely hard on me then."

"I'm flattered you remember so vividly," he replied, trying again to come off as cool and collected, but with her fingers still resting against his skin, tracing circles ever so gently, he knew he hadn't done so successfully. Though he was proud to say that it wasn't her comment that had him ruffled and blushing, but her touch instead. He was past the days where having been attracted to her embarrassed him. It wasn't a crime for him to enjoy himself, especially as she appeared to have enjoyed it quite as much as he did.

"Especially considering all that firewhiskey you'd had...do you remember all of your drunken liaisons so well?"

"Oh, I never forget a satisfying brand," she said, her fingers still absently tracing along his collar bone, catching the edge of his shirt, thumbing the fabric. "And, well...yours?" She trailed off, biting her lip, eyes fluttering closed again for a few brief moments, recalling how it'd felt to leave that little purpling bruise on Remus Lupin, the thrill of knowing it was there the next day, hidden beneath his beat up button-down and Gryffindor tie. She'd enjoyed that more than she was entirely comfortable admitting in any sincere capacity.

Turning to look up at him, she met him with a smile that was nothing less than coy. Why pretend, really? It was no different than any time she'd caught some guy unawares and given him something to remember her by. Except you don't remember their names, do you, Wynonna? An annoying voice prodded in her mind.

"Yours just happened to be a favorite of mine," she nearly purred, her face shifting then to something a little more indulgent and she let go of his shirt, instead cupping his cheek in her hand.

Remus hoped and prayed Wynonna couldn't feel the heat in his cheeks as her hand lay there while at the same time still hoping she wouldn't take it away. Her hands were slightly calloused but felt soft against his cheeks, warm and welcoming in a way he was quickly getting addicted to.

"But I think it's adorable you still believe I was actually drunk." As if a shot and a half of firewhiskey and a few butter beers could ever be enough to make her so much as light headed. One foot dropping away from her seat and back to the floor, Wynonna braced herself to leaned closer. "I've been drinking since age thirteen," she finished, patting his cheek with her hand as she let it drop away.

Remus nearly groaned aloud as her hand fell away. She'd been a tease when they were young too and had known it then as well as she knew it now. Time hadn't changed her knowing what sort of effect she could have on people, especially him.

Her eyes moved then to the glass in his hand, adding another splash of booze to it without asking if he wanted more. "Cheers." A clink of glass meeting glass resounded as she gave a mocking toast.

But as he sat there, reveling in her compliments, his ego padded with her words of remembrance, it began to fade as it sunk in that she hadn't really been drunk. All these years he'd believed she was drunk and for some reason, finding out that hadn't been true left him feeling disappointed. Disappointed knowing that he could have gotten more.

Though there was one thing that pleased him, and as he took another drink, he flashed her a victorious smile over the rim of his glass.

"You wanted to kiss me," he pointed out-a statement, not a question. Though over the years the memory of that night had faded, it came back now with startling clarity. He remembered thinking the only reason she would have ever kissed him was because she was drunk. The thought had never occurred to him that she would have done so willingly, consciously, intentionally. But knowing she hadn't been drunk...well, that changed things a bit.

Wynonna's eyebrows rose so high at his words, they almost disappeared into her hairline, the beginnings of an indulgent smirk curling its way across her sharp features. He sounded awfully sure of that for someone who hadn't known until a few moments ago that she'd barely been tipsy at the time. Smirk in place, she tilted her head as she looked at him, eyes traveling lazily down his body, tongue darting out to wet her lips as her eyes traced their way back up to his face once more.

Remus followed her gaze with his eyes, feeling a heat in each place her eyes rest. That's all it took-one look and she could leave him reeling.

As she looked him over, she had to admit he wasn't entirely wrong. At the time she would have denied it but Wynonna has long since made peace with the fact that her interest in Remus Lupin hadn't been entirely based on hatred. She'd always found him cute in his own particular way and most days she'd resent him all the more for it. That much hadn't changed with time either. She still felt the same heavy warmth in the pit of her stomach, snaking out into her veins each time he smirked or smiled. He was a good looking man and she was only human.

Well, maybe not only human anymore but who's to say the part of that's not wouldn't make a perfect excuse for any further weakness shown his way? I'm only human-but I'm also the wolf. She wondered if he could see the thought in her eyes. Part of her almost hoped so, she just wasn't sure which part.

"What I wanted," she began again in response, trailing off and finding herself leaning in close to him again, "was to shock you." Smirking, she took another swig straight from the bottle in her hand without breaking eye contact for a second. "And to see what you'd do it I leaned all over ya like I was making to fall down the stairs. And what you did-" Again she trailed off, threading her fingers through his hair again, moving to settle her weight more comfortably beside him.

Her hand then slid down to rest in a loose grip around the back of his neck, leaning in to let the tip of her nose rest between the strands just above his ear as she finished in hushed tone, "was smell my hair and snog me back." Leaning back, she eyed him with a mischievous, knowing glint in her eyes. "So who wanted to kiss who, really?"

Remus furrowed his brow at her cocky expression, letting out a breath of laughter. "You say that as if I wasn't supposed to want to snog you. Of course I wanted to." Apart from being a boy like any other, itching to snog girls, it had been her, the one person he had ever really wanted to snog. Whether that had all been due to her deliberately enticing tasing or an actual crush on her, he didn't care to think on too much, but it was probably a bit of both.

Wynonna's brows raised in surprise again, having not expected him to be so honest. It was refreshing in a way, though she couldn't help eyeing the glass in his hand, wondering if that may be the root of such honesty. Part of her, however, the part that had gotten to know him better over the past few weeks knew that was simply how he was sometimes, honest. It was a rarity, especially from the sorts of men she usually attracted.

Laughing, she shifted again, further away from him now, for the time being finished with her teasing like the old days. "Oh, I bet you couldn't wait to get back to your dormitory and tell all your friends. Sirius probably had a field day, didn't he?" She asked, remembering how Sirius had been chief among his friends trying to push Remus further into her path any chance he could. Even to this day, he seemed to have known there had been something between the two of them.

"Actually," Remus began, cocking his head to the side, another breath of laughter escaping him as he swirled the glass in his hand. "I never told them. They still don't know," he finished, words punctuated with another sip of his drink.

"What?" Wynonna asked, her surprise evident. "Really? Why?"

Remus shrugged, looking away shyly for a moment before he met her piercing blue eyes with his own. "It wasn't only my business to tell."

A girl like Wynonna had enough careless boys spouting about her to their friends, treating her like some sort of conquest. He hadn't appreciated hearing talk about her like that then and he certainly wasn't going to take part in it himself. Though altruism hadn't been his only reason. Selfishly, he had wanted to guard that moment all to himself. He hadn't wanted anyone to taint that moment for him.

Wynonna in response actually felt her cheeks warming and she knew there must be a faint red tint to them as she glanced away. Remus Lupin was just full of surprises for her tonight. Surprises that ought not to have been as surprising as they were. Turns out she didn't know him quite as well as she thought she had. All this time she'd thought she'd had him pegged, thought she knew all she needed to know. Well, she was dead wrong.

"Keep it up, Lu, and I might have to kiss you again," she said, willing herself to look him in the eyes and keep that tingling warmth that was pooling in the pit of her stomach at bay at the same time. It proved to be a very difficult task when he looked at her with those stupid blue eyes of his. And his stupid dimples.

"Don't make promises you can't keep," he replied with a shrug, raising a brow at her, his meaning clear-if she wanted to kiss him, he would do absolutely nothing to stop her. In fact, he'd welcome it quite willingly.

What the actual fuck! Wynonna thought as she looked at him, that warmth spreading to all parts of her body, especially the ones she was trying to keep it away from. She'd said it as a joke, or at least part of it had been a joke but she was beginning to realize she actually meant it. She could kiss him right then and there. She could take him to that stupid tiny tent of theirs and have her way with him and, unlike other similar encounters, not regret when she woke up the next morning.

Luckily she was spared the necessity to control that urge as Remus stood then, saying his goodnights before retreating into the tent for bed. Staring after him in a sort of daze she supposed it was for the best that he'd left when he did. While she wouldn't have regretted it if she had kissed him, nor if one kiss led to something more as she was sure it would have, and it would likely have been an experience worth having, it may have complicated things a bit. If she was to be out here in the woods with him at least for another week until after the next full moon, the last thing she needed to do was pull a Wynonna and fuck everything into a gigantic mess.

Wynonna waited a moment, contemplating sitting out by the fire and finishing the bottle in her hand, in the end deciding she didn't want to deal with that hangover and dropping the bottle at her feet before she too went inside the tent. She hadn't noticed how much or how little time had passed since Remus had gone in and had expected him to already be in bed, drifting off to sleep if not asleep already. But instead, she walked in just as he was changing into his nightshirt and this time she caught more than a passing glance at the scars she had known were hidden beneath his clothes.

Her eyes widened with shock-she knew he had scars, she'd seen some and he'd told her they were there, but the actual sight of them still took her by surprise. Looking at him, she hadn't realized herself walking over to him, eyes transfixed on the countless angry marks raised against his skin. She was imagining some harrowing scene like the night of her own attack, and she couldn't wrap her head around the thought of a pack of werewolves viciously attacking the man before her when he was only five years old.

"Don't look so grim," he said, starting her out of her thoughts, and she shook her head, surprised to find herself standing less than a foot from him. "I did most of these myself."

"You what?!" She asked, her eyes shooting up to look him in the eye.

"It's a long story. Don't worry, it won't happen to you," he said, dryly, almost clinically as he moved to turn his back to her. But without meaning to or choosing to, she reached a hand out and stopped him, her hand resting on his chest, her finger brushing against a scar just below his collar bone.

An inch above it was the spot she'd left that mark on him when they were kids. Had this scar been there then? If she'd moved his shirt just a little bit more, would she have seen these scars? Possibly kissed them instead? Or would he have stopped her before she could, in effort to keep his secret.

Deliberately avoiding her gaze, he moved her hand away from him with one of his own, turning quickly to throw his nightshirt on finally. Once dressed again, he turned back to her, trying to force a polite smile.

"I told you seeing my pale ass, scar riddled body wouldn't make things any better."

"Speak for yourself," she replied, the sarcastic, teasing remark falling like a bad habit from her lips. But it did the job, Remus let out a soft, genuine chuckle and Wynonna continued, trying to lighten the moment. "I definitely feel better now."

And she wasn't really lying either. While she felt a surge of emotion upon seeing the damage done to him and she felt bad knowing the pain he must have endured, she didn't find them unsightly. She could understand why he'd hidden them from others all his life as there were only so many things in the wizarding world that could leave permanent scars like that. But if he had hidden them from her because he thought they were ugly, he was misguided.

Whatever he may think, he didn't look any less handsome because of them. Quite the contrary, in fact. Maybe it was the broken part of her but knowing that a part of him was broken too only made him more attractive. Maybe that was wrong of her to feel that way, to want him to be as broken as her, but seeing his flaws, his imperfections, made her feel more secure in her own. Already being around Remus, she felt she was finally somewhere she belonged, was with someone who understood her in ways no one else had. Seeing him then, bared before her, that feeling only strengthened as she slipped in bed beside him, drifting off to an unusually restful sleep.


End file.
